HIGH -SCHOOL 
^LEFT-END- 

H-IRVING-HANCOCK 


fornia 
mal 


THE 
HIGH  SCHOOL 
BOYS  SERIES 


0CS8  LIBRARY 


'•/y     0. 


"You  Young  Puppy!"  Cried  Dodge. 


frontispiece. 


The  High   School 
Left  End 


OR 


Dick  &  Co.  Grilling  on  the  Football 
Gridiron 


By 

H.  IRVING  HANCOCK 

Author  of  The  High  School  Freshmen,  The  High  School  Pitcher, 
The  Motor  Boat  Club  Series,  Etc.,  Etc. 


Illustrated 


PHILADELPHIA 

HENRY  ALTEMUS  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY  HOWARD  E.  ALTEMUS 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  SULKING  IN  THE  FOOTBALL  CAMP 7 

II.  THE  START  OF  THE  DODGE  MYSTERY 22 

III.  DICK  STUMBLES  ON  SOMETHING 32 

IV.  THE  ' '  SOREHEADS  ' '  IN  CONCLAVE 53 

V.  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 62 

VI.  THE  SMALL  SOUL  OF  A  GENTLEMAN 70 

VII.  THE  FOOTBALL  NOTICE  GOES  UP 76 

VIII.  DICK  FIRES  BOTH  BARRELS 87 

IX.  BAYLISS  GETS  SOME  ADVICE 95 

X.  Two  GIRLS  TURN  THE  LAUGH 108 

XI.  DOES  FOOTBALL  TEACH  EEAL  NERVE 120 

XII.  DICK,  LIKE  C.SSAR,  EEFUSES  THE  CROWN 130 

XIII.  BERT  DODGE  ' '  STARTS  SOMETHING  " 137 

XIV.  THE  ' '  STRATEGY  "  OF  A  SCHOOL  TRAITOB 146 

XV.  A  ' '  FEAR  ' '  FOR  THE  PLOTTER 154 

XVI.  ' '  THE  CATTLE  CAR  FOR  YOURS  " 164 

XVII.  FACING  THE  ' '  SCHOOL  CUT  " 177 

XVIII.  "PRIN."  GETS  IN  THE  PRACTICE 183 

XIX.  LAURA  AND  BELLE  HAVE  A  SECRET 195 

XX.  IN  THE  LINE  OF  DARING 204 

XXI.  THE  PRICE  OF  BRAVERY 213 

XXII.  THE  THANKSGIVING  DAY  GAME 221 

XXIIT.    SULKER  AND  EEAL  MAN 232 

XXIV.  CONCLUSION  .  ..241 


The  High  School  Left  End 
CHAPTER  I 

SULKING   IN   THE   FOOTBALL   CAMP 

"  T~~^  OOTBALL  is  all  at  sixes  and  sevens, 
this  year,"  muttered  Dave  Darrin 
disconsolately. 

''I  can  tell  you  something  more  than  that," 
added  Tom  Reade  mysteriously. 

"What?"  asked  Dick  Prescott,  looking  at 
Reade  with  interest,  for  it  was  unusual  for 
Reade  to  employ  that  tone  or  air. 

"Two  members  of  the  Athletics  Committee 
have  intimated  to  Coach  Morton  that  they'd 
rather  see  football  passed  by  this  year." 

"What?"  gasped  Dick.  He  was  staring  hard 
now. 

' '  Fact, ' '  nodded  Tom.  * '  At  least,  I  believe  it 
to  be  a  fact." 

"There  must  be  something  wrong  with  that 
news,"  put  in  Greg  Holmes  anxiously. 

"No;  I  think  it's  all  straight  enough,"  per- 
sisted Tom,  shaking  his  head  to  silence  Holmes. 

7 


8        THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

11  It  came  to  me  straight  enough,  though  I 
don't  feel  at  liberty  to  tell  you  who  told 
me." 

All  six  members  of  Dick  &  Co.  were  present. 
The  scene  of  the  meeting  was  Dick  Prescott's 
own  room  at  his  home  over  the  bookstore  kept 
by  his  parents.  The  hour  was  about  nine 
o'clock  in  the  evening.  It  was  Friday  evening 
of  the  first  week  of  the  new  school  year.  The 
fellows  had  dropped  in  to  talk  over  the  coming 
football  season,  because  the  week  had  been  one 
of  mysterious  unrest  in  the  football  squad  at 
Gridley  High  School. 

Just  what  the  trouble  was,  where  it  lay  or 
how  it  had  started  was  puzzling  the  whole 
High  School  student  body.  The  squad  was  not 
yet  duly  organized.  This  was  never  attempted 
until  in  the  second  week  of  the  school  year.  Yet 
it  was  always  the  rule  that  the  new  seniors  who, 
during  their  junior  year,  had  made  good  records 
on  either  the  school  eleven,  or  the  second  eleven, 
should  form  the  nucleus  of  the  new  pigskin 
squad.  Added  to  these,  were  the  new  juniors, 
formerly  of  the  sophomore  class,  who  had  shown 
the  most  general  promise  in  athletics  during  the 
preceding  school  year. 

Gridley  High  School  aimed  to  lead — to  be 
away  at  the  top — in  all  school  athletics.  The 
"Gridley  spirit,"  which  would  net  accept  de- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END       9 

feat  in  sports,  was  proverbial  throughout  the 
state. 

And  so,  though  the  football  squad  was  not 
yet  formally  organized  for  training  and  prac- 
tice, yet,  up  to  the  last  few  days,  it  had  been 
expected  that  a  finer  gridiron  crowd  than  usual 
would  present  itself  for  weeding,  sifting  and 
training  by  Coach  Morton.  The  latter  was  also 
one  of  the  submasters  of  Gridley  High  School. 

Since  the  school  year  had  opened,  however, 
undercurrent  news  had  been  rife  that  there 
would  be  many  ''soreheads,"  and  that  this 
would  be  an  "  off  year ' '  in  Gridley  football.  Just 
where  the  trouble  lay,  or  what  the  "kick"  was 
about,  was  a  puzzle  to  most  members  of  the 
student  body.  It  was  an  actual  mystery  to 
Dick  &  Co.  * 

"What  is  all  the  undermining  row  about,  any- 
way?" demanded  Dick,  looking  around  at  his 
chums.  Dick  was  pacing  the  floor.  Dave,  Tom 
and  Greg  Holmes  were  seated  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed.  Dan  Dalzell  was  lying  back  in  the 
one  armchair  that  the  room  boasted.  Harry 
Hazelton  was  standing  by  the  door. 

"I  can't  make  a  single  thing  out  of  it  all," 
sighed  Dan.  "All  I  can  get  at  is  that  some  of 
the  seniors  and  some  of  our  class,  the  juniors, 
are  talking  as  though  they  didn't  care  about 
playing  this  year.  I  know  that  Coach  Morton 


is  worried.    In  fact,  he's  downright  disheart- 
ened. ' ' 

"Surely,"  interjected  Dick,  "Mr.  Morton 
must  have  an  idea  of  what  is  keeping  some  of 
the  fellows  back  from  the  team?" 

"If  he  does  know,  he  isn't  offering  any  in- 
formation," returned  Harry  Hazelton. 

"I  don't  see  any  need  for  so  much  mystery," 
broke  in  Dave  Darrin,  in  disgust. 

"Well,  there  is  a  mystery  about  it,  anyway," 
contended  Tom  Reade. 

"Then,  before  I'm  much  older,  I'm  going  to 
know  what  that  mystery  is,"  declared  Dick. 

"You're  surely  the  one  of  our  crowd  who 
ought  to  be  put  on  the  trail  of  the  mystery," 
proposed  Dalzell,  with  a  laugh. 

"Why?"  challenged  Prescott. 

"Why,  you're  a  reporter  on  'The  Blade.' 
Now  mysteries  are  supposed  to  constitute  the 
especial  field  of  reporters.  So,  see  here,  fel- 
lows, I  move  that  we  appoint  Dick  Prescott  a 
committee  of  one  for  Dick  &  Co.,  his  job  being 
to  find  out  what  ails  football — to  learn  just 
what  has  made  football  sick  this  year." 

"Hear!    Hear!"  cried  some  of  the  others. 

"Is  that  your  unanimous  wish,  fellows?" 
asked  Dick,  smiling. 

"It  isr"  the  others  agreed. 

"Very  good,  then,"  sighed  Prescott.     "At 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      11 

no  matter  what  personal  cost,  I  will  find  the  an- 
swer for  you." 

This  was  all  in  a  spirit  of  fun,  as  the  chums 
understood.  Yet  this  lightly  given  promise  was 
likely  to  involve  Dick  Prescott  in  a  good  deal 
more  than  he  had  expected. 

Readers  of  the  preceding  volumes  in  this 
series  know  Dick  &  Co.  so  well  that  an  intro- 
duction would  be  superfluous.  Those  to  whom 
the  pages  of  "THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  FRESHMEN" 
are  familiar  know  how  Dick  &  Co.,  chums  from 
the  Central  Grammar  School,  entered  Gridley 
High  School  in  the  same  year.  How  the  boys 
toiled  through  that  first  year  as  half-despised 
freshmen,  and  how  they  got  some  small  share 
in  school  athletics,  even  though  freshmen  were 
not  allowed  to  make  the  school  athletic  teams, 
has  been  told.  The  pranks  of  the  young  fresh- 
men are  now  "old  tales."  How  Dick  Prescott, 
with  the  aid  of  his  chums,  put  up  a  hoax  that 
fairly  scared  the  Board  of  Education  out  of  its 
purpose  to  forbid  High  School  football  does  not 
need  telling  again.  Our  former  readers  are 
also  familiar  with  the  enmity  displayed  by  Fred 
Ripley,  son  of  a  wealthy  lawyer,  and  the  boom- 
erang plot  of  Ripley  to  disgrace  Prescott  and 
brand  the  latter  as  a  High  School  thief.  The 
same  readers  will  recall  the  part  played  in  this 
plot  by  Tip  Scammon,  worthless  son  of  the  hon- 


12      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

est  old  High  School  janitor,  and  how  Tip's  evil 
work  resulted  in  his  going  to  the  penitentiary 
for  the  better  part  of  a  year. 

Headers  of  "THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  PITCHER" 
will  recollect  how,  in  their  sophomore  year, 
Dick  &  Co.  made  their  first  real  start  in  High 
School  athletics;  how  Dick  became  the  star 
pitcher  for  the  nine,  and  how  the  other  chums 
all  found  places  on  the  nine,  either  as  star  play- 
ers or  as  "subs."  In  this  volume  also  was  told 
the  story  of  Fred's  moral  disasters  under  the 
tyranny  of  Tip  Scammon,  who  threatened  to 
"tell."  How  Dick  &  Co.  were  largely  entitled 
to  the  credit  for  bringing  the  Gridley  High 
School  nine  through  a  season's  great  record  on 
the  diamond  was  all  told  in  this  second  volume. 
Dick's  good  fortune  in  getting  a  position  as 
"space"  reporter  on  "The  Morning  Blade"  was 
also  described,  and  some  of  his  adventures  as 
reporter  were  told.  The  culmination  of  Fred 
Ripley's  scoundrelism,  and  his  detection  by  his 
stern  old  lawyer  father,  were  narrated  at  length. 
Perhaps  many  of  our  readers  will  remember, 
first  of  all,  the  tremendous  "pennies"  hoax  on 
the  unpopular  principal  of  the  High  School,  Mr. 
Abner  Cantwell ;  and  the  swimming  episode,  in 
which  every  High  School  boy  took  part,  after- 
wards meekly  awaiting  the  impossible  expulsion 
of  all  the  boys  of  the  High  School  student  body. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      13 

Our  readers  will  recall  that  Mr.  Cantwell  had 
succeeded  the  former  principal,  Dr.  Thornton, 
whom  the  boys  had  almost  idolized,  and  that 
much  of  Mr.  CantwelPs  trouble  was  due  to  his 
ungovernable  temper. 

During  the  first  two  years  of  High  School  life, 
Dick  &  Co.  had  become  increasingly  popular. 
True,  since  these  six  chums  were  all  the  sons 
of  families  in  very  moderate  circumstances, 
Dick  &  Co.  had  been  disliked  by  some  of  the  lit- 
tle groups  of  students  who  came  from  wealthier 
families,  and  who  believed  that  High  School 
life  should  be  rather  governed  by  a  select  few 
representing  the  more  "aristocratic"  families 
of  the  little  city. 

Good-humored  avoidance  is  excellent  treat- 
ment to  accord  a  snob,  and  this,  as  far  as 
possible,  had  been  the  plan  of  Dick  &  Co. 
and  of  the  other  average  boy  at  the  High 
School. 

"Let  us  see,"  broke  in  Dick,  suddenly,  "who 
are  the  soreheads  in  the  football  line?" 

"Well,  Davis  and  Cassleigh,  of  the  senior 
class,  for  two,"  replied  Dave  Darrin. 

"Dodge,  Fremont  and  Bayliss,  also  first 
classmen,"  suggested  Eeade. 

"Trenholm  and  Grayson,  also  seniors," 
brought  in  Greg  Holmes. 

"Then  there  are  Porter,  Drayne  and  Whit- 


14      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

ney,"  added  Dave.  "They're  of  this  year's 
juniors. ' ' 

"And  Hudson  and  Paulson,  also  of  our  junior 
class,"  nodded  Harry  Hazelton. 

Dick  Prescott  had  rapidly  written  down  the 
names.  Now  he  was  studying  the  list  care- 
fully. 

"They're  all  good  football  men,"  sighed 
Dick.  "All  men  whose  aid  in  the  football 
squad  is  much  needed." 

"Drayne  is  the  stuck-up  chap,  who  uses  the 
broad  'a'  in  his  speech,  and  carries  his  nose 
up  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,"  chuckled 
Dan  Dalzell.  "He's  the  fellow  I  mortally  of- 
fended by  nicknaming  him  'Sewers,'  to  mimic 
his  name  of  'Drayne.'  ' 

"That  wouldn't  be  enough  to  keep  him  out 
of  football,"  remarked  Dave  quietly. 

Dick  looked  up  suddenly  from  his  list. 

"Fellows,"  he  announced,  "I've  made  one 
discovery. ' ' 

"Out  with  it!"  ordered  Dan. 

"Perhaps  you  can  guess  for  yourselves  what 
I  have  just  found. ' ' 

"We  can't,"  admitted  Hazelton  meekly. 
"Please  tell  us,  and  save  us  racking  our 
brains." 

"Well,  it's  curious,"  continued  Dick  slowly, 
"but  every  one  of  these  fellows — I  believe 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      15 

you've  given  me  all  the  names  of  the  'sore- 
heads'?" 

"We  have,"  affirmed  Tom  Beade. 

"Well,  I've  just  noted  that  every  fellow  on 
my  sorehead  roll  of  honor  belongs  to  one  of  our 
families  of  wealth  in  Gridley." 

Dick  paused  to  look  around  him,  to  see  how 
the  announcement  impressed  his  chums. 

"Do  you  mean,"  hinted  Hazelton,  "that  the 
soreheads  are  down  on  football  because  they 
prefer  automobiles?" 

"No."  Dick  Prescott  shook  his  head  em- 
phatically. 

"By  Jove,  Dick,  I  believe  you're  right,"  sud- 
denly exclaimed  Dave  Darrin. 

*  *  So  you  see  my  point,  old  fellow  ? ' ' 

"I'm  sure  I  do." 

"I'm  going  to  get  examined  for  spectacles, 
then,"  sighed  Dan  plaintively.  "I  can't  see 
a  thing." 

* '  Why,  you  ninny, ' r  retorted  Dave  scornfully, 
"the  football  'soreheads'  have  been  delevoping 
that  classy  feeling.  They  wear  better  clothes 
than  we  do,  and  have  more  pocket  money.  Many 
of  their  fathers  don't  work  for  a  living.  In 
other  words,  the  fellows  on  Dick's  list  belong  to 
what  they  consider  a  privileged  and  aristocratic 
set.  They're  the  Gridley  bluebloods — or  think 
they  are — and  they  don't  intend  to  play  on  any 


16      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

football  eleven  that  is  likely  to  have  Dick  &  Co. 
and  a  few  other  ordinary  muckers  on  it." 

"Muckers?"  repeated  Harry  Hazelton  flaring 
up. 

"Cool  down,  dear  chap,  do!"  urged  Damn, 
soothingly.  "I  don't  mean  to  imply  that  we 
really  are  muckers,  but  that's  what  some  of  the 
classy  group  evidently  consider  us." 

"Why,  they  say  that  Cassleigh's  grandfather 
was  an  Italian  immigrant,  who  spelled  his  name 
Casselli,"  broke  in  Dan  Dalzell. 

"I  believe  it,  son,"  nodded  Dave.  "Old  Cas- 
selli was  an  immigrant  and  an  honest  fellow. 
But  he  had  the  bad  judgment  to  make  some 
money  in  the  junk  business,  and  sent  his  son  to 
college.  The  son,  after  the  old  immigrant  died, 
took  to  spelling  his  name  Cassleigh,  and  the 
grandson  is  the  prize  snob  of  the  town." 

"And  Bayliss's  father  was  indicted  by  the 
grand  jury,  seven  or  eight  years  ago,  for  brib- 
ery in  connection  with  a  trolley  franchise, ' '  mut- 
tered Greg  Holmes. 

"Also  currently  reported  to  be  true,  my  in- 
fant, ' '  nodded  Dave  sagely.  ' l  But  the  witnesses 
against  the  elder  Bayliss  skipped,  and  the  dis- 
trict attorney  never  brought  the  case  to  trial. 
Case  was  quashed  a  year  later,  and  so  now  the 
Baylisses  belong  to  the  Distinguished  Order  of 
Unconvicted  Boodlers.  That  trolley  stock 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      17 

jumped  to  six  times  its  par  value  right  after  the 
case  against  Bayliss  was  dropped,  you  know.'* 

"And,  from  what  I've  heard  Mr.  Pollock  say 
at  'The  Blade'  office,"  Dick  threw  in,  "the 
fathers  of  one  or  two  of  the  other  soreheads  got 
their  money  in  devious  ways." 

"Why,  there's  Whitney's  father,"  laughed 
Dan  Dalzell.  "Did  you  ever  hear  how  he  got 
his  start  thirty  years  ago!  Whitney's  brother- 
in-law  got  into  financial  difficulties,  and  trans- 
ferred to  the  elder  Whitney  property  worth  a 
hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  dollars. 
When  the  financial  storm  blew  over  the  brother- 
in-law  wanted  the  property  transferred  back 
again,  but  the  elder  Whitney  didn't  see  it  that 
way.  The  elder  Whitney  kept  the  transferred 
property,  and  has  since  increased  it  to  a  half 
million  or  more." 

"Oh,  well,"  Dick  interrupted,  "let  us  admit 
that  some  of  the  fellows  on  the  sorehead  list 
have  never  been  in  jail,  and  have  never  been 
threatened  with  it.  But  I  am  sure  that  Dave 
has  guessed  my  meaning  right.  The  soreheads, 
who  number  a  dozen  of  rather  valuable  pigskin 
men,  are  on  strike  just  because  some  of  us 
poorer  fellows  are  in  it. ' ' 

"What  nonsense!"  ejaculated  Greg  Holmes 
disgustedly.  "Why,  Purcell  isn't  in  any  such 
crowd.  Of  course,  Purcell 's  father  isn't  rich 

St-  The  High  School  Left  End. 


18      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice,  but  the  Purcells, 
as  far  as  blood  goes,  are  head  and  shoulders 
above  the  families  of  any  of  the  fellows  on 
Pick's  little  list."  . 

"If  that's  really  what  the  disagreement  is 
over,"  drawled  Dan,  "I  see  an  easy  way  out  of 
it." 

' '  Go  ahead, ' '  nodded  Dick. 

"Let  the  'soreheads'  form  the  Sons  of  Tax- 
payers Eleven,  and  we'll  organize  a  Sons  of 
poor  but  Honest  Parents  Eleven.  Then  we'll 
play  them  the  best  two  out  of  three  games  for 
the  honor  of  representing  Gridley  High  School 
this  year." 

"Bright,  but  not  practicable,"  objected  Dick 
patiently.  "The  trouble  is  that,  if  two  such 
teams  were  formed  and  matched,  neither  team, 
in  the  event  of  its  victory,  would  have  all  of  the 
best  gridiron  stuff  that  the  High  School  con- 
tains. No,  no;  what  we  want,  if  possible,  is 
some  plan  that  will  bring  the  whole  student  body 
together,  all  differences  forgotten  and  with  the 
sole  purpose  of  getting  up  the  best  eleven  that 
Gridley  can  possibly  send  out  against  the 
world." 

"Well,  we  are  willing,"  remarked  Darrin 
grimly. 

"No!  No,  we're  not,"  objected  Hazelton 
fiercely.  "If  the  snobs  don't  want  to  play  with 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      19 

any  of  us  on  the  team,  then  we  don't  want  to 
play  if  they  come  in." 

"Gently,  gently!"  urged  Dick.  "Think  of 
the  honor  of  your  school  before  you  tie  your 
hands  up  with  any  of  your  own  mean,  small 
pride.  Our  whole  idea  must  be  that  Gridley 
High  School  is  to  go  on  winning,  as  it  has  al- 
ways done  before.  For  myself,  I  had  hoped  to 
be  on  the  eleven  this  year.  Yet,  if  my  staying 
off  the  list  will  put  Gridley  in  the  winning  set, 
I'm  willing  to  give  up  my  own  ambitions.  I'm 
going  to  put  the  honor  of  the  school  first,  and 
myself  somewhere  along  about  fourteenth." 

"That's  the  only  talk,"  approved  Dave 
promptly.  "Gridley  must  have  the  winning 
football  eleven." 

"Well,  the  whole  thing  is  a  shame,"  blazed 
Reade  indignantly. 

"Oh,  well,  don't  worry,"  drawled  Dan  Dal- 
zell.  "Keep  cool,  and  the  whole  thing  will  be 
fixed." 

"Fixed?' 'insisted  Reade.  "How?  How  will 
it  be  fixed?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Dan  confessed,  stifling  a 
yawn  behind  his  hand.  "Just  leave  the  worry 
alone.  Let  Dick  fix  it. " 

"How  can  you  fix  it?"  asked  Reade,  turning 
upon  their  leader. 

"I    don't    know — yet,"    hesitated    Prescott. 


20      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"But,  like  Dan,  I  believe  there's  a  way  to  be 
found. ' ' 

"Going?"  asked  Hazelton.  "Well,  I'll  trot 
along,  too." 

"Yes,"  nodded  Greg.  "It's  a  shame  to  stay 
here,  hardening  Dick's  mattress  when  he  ought 
to  be  lying  on  it  himself.  It 's  time  we  were  all 
in  bed.  Good  night,  Dick,  old  fellow." 

Four  of  the  boys  were  speedily  gone.  Dar- 
rin,  however,  remained  behind,  though  he  in- 
tended to  stay  only  a  few  minutes.  The  two 
were  earnestly  discussing  the  squally  football 
"weather"  when  the  elder  Prescott's  voice 
sounded  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

"Dick?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  boy,  throwing  open 
the  door  and  springing  to  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"Mr.  Bradley,  of  'The  Blade,'  wants  to  talk 
with  you  over  the  'phone.  In  a  hurry,  too,  he 
says." 

"I'll  be  right  there,  Dad.     Coming,  Dave?" 

Darrin  nodding,  the  two  chums  ran  down  the 
stairs  to  the  bookstore.  Dick  caught  up  the 
transmitter  and  answered. 

"That  you,  Dick?"  sounded  the  impatient 
voice  of  News  Editor  Bradley. 

"This  is  Dick  Prescott,  Mr.  Bradley." 

"Then,  for  goodness'  sake,  can  you  hustle  up 
here?" 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      21 

"Of  course  I  can." 

"Ask  your  father  if  you  can  take  up  a  late 
night  job  for  me.  Then  corne  on  the  jump. 
My  men  are  all  out,  and  everything  is  at  odds 
and  ends  in  the  way  of  news.  I  can't  get  a 
single  man,  and  I  wish  I  had  three  at  this  min- 
ute." 

"Dave  Darrin  is  here.  Can  I  bring  him 
along?" 

'  *  Yes ;  he 's  not  a  reporter — but  he  may  be  able 
to  help.  Hustle." 

"I'll  be  walking  in  through  the  doorway," 
laughed  Dick,  "by  the  time  you've  hung  your 
transmitter  up.  Good-bye."  Ting-a-ling-ling  1 
"Now,  Dave,  get  your  father  on  the  jump,  and 
ask  his  leave  to  go  out  on  a  late  night  story  with 
me." 

Fortunately  there  was  no  delay  about  this. 
Dave  received  the  permission  from  home 
promptly  enough.  The  two  youngsters  set  out 
on  a  run. 

What  healthy  boy  of  sixteen  doesn't  love  to 
prowl  late  at  night?  It  is  twentyfold  more  fas- 
cinating when  there's  a  mystery  on  tap,  and  a 
newspaper  behind  all  the  curiosity. 

The  longing  of  these  sturdy  chums  for  mys- 
tery and  adventure  was  swiftly  to  be  gratified 
— perhaps  more  so  than  they  could  have 
wished ! 


News  Editor  Bradley  was  waiting  for  them 
in  the  doorway  of  "The  Blade"  office,  a  frown 
on  the  journalistic  face. 


CHAPTER  H 

THE    START    OF    THE    DODGE    MYSTERY 

*tr  |  ^HIS  is  the  way  it  always  goes,"  jerked 

out  Bradley,  as  the  two  High  School 

boys  huried  into  the  office  after  him. 

"One  of  my  men  is  sick,  and  the  other  two  are 

somewhere — where,  I  can 't  find  out. ' ' 

"All"  his  men  sounded  large  enough;  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  only  reporters  "The  Blade" 
employed  were  three  young  men  on  salary,  and 
Dick  Prescott,  mainly  as  gleaner  of  school  news. 
Dick  didn't  receive  any  salary,  but  was  paid  a 
dollar  a  column. 

"What's  happening,  anyway?"  Dick  asked 
coolly. 

"You  know  Theodore  Dodge?"  demanded 
Mr.  Bradley. 

"I  know  him  when  I  see  him;  he  never  talks 
with  me,"  Prescott  replied. 

"Theodore  Dodge  is  the  father  of  a  fellow  in 
our  senior  class  at  High  School,"  Dave  put  in, 
adding  under  his  breath,  "and  the  son  is  one 
of  our  football  'soreheads.'  " 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      23 

"Dodge  has  vanished,"  continued  Bradley. 
"He  went  out  early  this  morning,  and  hasn't 
been  seen  since.  To-night,  just  after  dark,  a 
man  walking  by  the  river,  up  above  the  bend, 
picked  up  a  coat  and  hat  on  the  bank.  Letters 
in  the  pocket  showed  the  coat  to  be  Mr.  Dodge's. 
The  finder  of  the  coat  hurried  to  the  Dodge 
house,  and  Mrs.  Dodge  hurriedly  notified  the 
police,  asking  Chief  Coy  to  keep  the  whole  mat- 
ter quiet.  Jerry  (Chief  Coy)  doesn't  know 
that  we  have  a  blessed  word  about  this.  But 
Jerry,  his  plain  clothes  man,  Hemingway,  and 
two  other  officers  are  out  on  the  case.  They 
have  been  on  the  job  for  nearly  three  hours. 
So  far  they  haven't  learned  a  word.  They 
can't  drag  the  river  until  daylight  comes. 
Now,  Prescott,  what  occurs  to  you  as  the  thing 
to  do?" 

"I  guess  the  only  thing,"  replied  Dick 
quietly,  "is  to  find  Theodore  Dodge." 

Mr.  Bradley  gasped. 

"Well,  yes;  you  have  the  right  idea,  young 
man.  But  can  you  find  Dodge,  Dick?" 

"When  do  you  go  to  press?" 

"Latest  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"I  think  I  can  either  find  Theodore  Dodge, 
or  else  find  where  he  went  to,"  Prescott  replied, 
slowly.  * '  Of  course,  that 's  brag — not  promise. ' J 

"You  get  us  the  story — straight  and  in  de- 


24      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

tail,"  cried  Bradley,  eagerly,  "and  there'll 
probably  be  a  bit  extra  in  it  for  you — a  good 
bit,  perhaps.  If  Dodge  doesn't  turn  up  with- 
out sensation  this  is  going  to  be  our  big  story 
for  a  week.  Dodge,  you  know,  is  vice-president 
and  actual  head  of  the  Second  National  Bank." 

"Whew!"  thought  Dave  Darrin,  to  himself. 
"It's  easy  enough  for  any  suspicious  person  to 
imagine  a  story !  But  it  might  not  be  the  right 
one. ' ' 

"Some  time  ago,"  asked  Dick  thoughtfully, 
-"didn't  you  publish  a  story  about  some  of  the 
big  amounts  of  insurance  carried  by  local  rich 
men?" 

"Yes,"  nodded  Bradley. 

"I  think  you  stated  that  Theodore  Dodge  car- 
ried more  than  any  other  citizen  of  Gridley. ' ' 

"Yes;  he  carries  a  quarter  of  a  million  dol- 
lars of  insurance." 

"Is  the  insurance  payable  to  his  widow,  or 
others — or  to  his  estate?" 

"I  don't  know,"  mused  News  Editor  Bradley, 
a  very  thoughtful  look  coming  into  his  face. 

"Well,  it's  worth  while  finding  out,"  pursued 
Dick.  "See  here,  suppose  Dodge  has  been 
using  the  bank's  funds,  and  found  himself  in  a 
corner  that  he  couldn't  get  out  of!  Then,  if 
the  insurance  money  goes  to  his  widow,  it  would 
be  hers,  and  no  court  could  take  it  from  her  for 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      25 

the  benefit  of  his  creditors.  If  it  goes  to  the 
estate,  instead,  then  the  insurance  money,  when 
paid  over,  could  be  seized  and  applied  to  cover 
any  shortage  of  the  missing  man  at  the  bank." 

"So  that ?"  interrogated  the  news  editor, 

his  own  eyes  twinkling  shrewdly. 

"Why,  in  case — just  in  case,  you  understand 
— that  Mr.  Dodge  has  gone  and  gotten  himself 
into  trouble  over  the  bank's  funds,  then  it's 
probable  that  he  has  done  one  of  two  things. 
Either,  in  despair  he  has  killed  himself,  so  that 
either  his  widow  or  the  bank  will  be  protected. 
If  the  missing  man  didn't  do  away  with  himself, 
then  probably  he  has  put  up  the  appearance  of 
suicide  in  the  hope  that  the  officers  of  the  law 
will  be  fooled  off  his  trail,  and  that  either  a 
wronged  bank  or  a  deserted  wife  might  get  the 
insurance  money.  Of  course,  Mrs.  Dodge  might 
even  be  a  party  to  a  contemplated  fraud,  thougk 
that's  not  a  fair  inference  against  her  unless 
something  turns  up  to  make  it  seem  highly  prob- 
able." 

"My  boy,"  cried  Mr.  Bradley  admiringly, 
"you've  all  the  instincts  and  qualities  of  the 
good  newspaper  man.  I  hope  you  '11  take  up  the 
work  when  you  get  through  the  High  School. 
But  now  to  business ! ' ' 

"Where  do  you  want  me  to  go!  Where  do 
you  want  me  to  take  up  the  trail?  Where  it 


26      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

started,  just  above  the  river  bend?  That's  out 
in  the  country,  a  mile  and  a  half  from  here. ' ' 

"Darrin,"  begged  the  news  editor,  " won't 
you  step  to  the  'phone  and  ring  up  Getchel's 
livery  stable?  Ask  the  man  in  charge  to 
send  a  horse  and  buggy  up  here,  and  state  that 
we  want  a  horse  with  a  little  speed  and  a  good 
deal  of  endurance." 

While  Dave  was  busy  at  the  wire  Dick  and 
the  news  editor  talked  over  the  affair  in  low 
tones. 

"With  the  horse  you  can  cover  a  lot  of 
ground,"  suggested  Bradley.  "And  you're 
right  about  taking  up  the  trail  where  it  started. 
In  half  an  hour,  if  you  don't  strike  something 
big,  you  can  drive  back  here  on  the  jump  for 
further  orders.  And  don't  forget  the  use  of 
the  'phone,  if  you're  at  a  distance.  Also,  if  you 
strike  something,  and  want  to  follow  it  further, 
you  can  have  Darrin  drive  in  with  anything  that 
you've  struck  up  to  the  minute.  Hustle,  both 
of  you.  And,  Darrin,  we'll  pay  you  for  your 
trouble  to-night." 

Horse  and  buggy  were  soon  at  the  door.  Dick 
sprang  in,  picking  up  the  reins.  Dave  leaped  in 
at  the  other  side.  The  horse  started  away  at  a 
steady  trot. 

"I  hope  those  boys  have  brains  enough  not  to 
go  right  past  the  story,"  mused  Bradley,  gazing 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      27 

after  the  buggy  before  he  went  back  to  his  desk. 
"But  I  guess  Prescott  always  has  his  head 
squarely  on  his  shoulders.  He  does,  in  school 
athletics,  anyway.  Len  Spencer  is  the  man  for 
this  job,  so  of  course  Len  had  to  be  laid  up  with 
a  cold  and  fever  that  would  make  it  murder  to 
send  him  ought  to-night." 

"Dick,"  muttered  Dave  excitedly,  "you've 
simply  got  to  make  good.  This  isn't  simply  a 
little  paragraph  to  be  scribbled.  It's  a  mystery 
and  is  going  to  be  the  sensation  of  the  day.  This 
is  the  kind  of  story  that  full-fledged  reporters 
on  the  great  dailies  have  to  handle." 

"Yes,"  laughed  Dick,  "and  those  reporters 
never  get  flurried.  I'm  not  going  to  allow  my- 
self any  excitement,  either." 

"No,  but  you  want  to  get  the  story — all  of 
it." 

"Of  course  I  do,"  Prescott  agreed  quietly. 

"If  you  do  this  in  bang-up  shape,"  Dave  went 
on  enthusiastically,  "it's  likely  to  be  the  mak- 
ing of  you!" 

' '  How  ? ' '  queried  Dick,  turning  around  to  his 
chum. 

"Why,  success  on  a  big  story  would  fairly 
launch  you  in  journalism.  It  would  provide 
your  career  as  soon  as  you're  through  High 
School." 

"I  don't  want  a  career  at  the  end  of  the  High 


28      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

School  course,"  Dick  returned.  "I'm  going 
further,  and  try  to  fare  better  in  life." 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  be  a  newspaper  man 
for  good?"  demanded  Dave. 

"Not  on  a  small-fry  paper,  anyway,"  replied 
Prescott.  "Why,  Bradley  is  news  editor,  and 
has  been  in  the  business  for  years.  He  gets 
about  thirty  dollars  a  week.  I  don't  believe 
Pollock,  who  has  charge  of  the  paper,  gets  more 
than  forty-five.  That  isn't  return  enough  for 
a  man  who  is  putting  in  his  whole  life  at  the 
business." 

"Thirty  dollars  has  the  sound  of  pretty  large 
money,"  mused  Dave.  "As  for  forty-five,  if 
that's  what  Mr.  Pollock  gets,  look  at  the  comfort 
he  lives  in  at  his  club;  and  he's  a  real  estate 
owner,  too." 

"Yes,"  Dick  admitted.  "But  that's  because 
Pollock  follows  two  callings.  He's  an  editor 
and  a  dealer  in  real  estate.  As  for  me,  I'd 
rather  put  all  my  energies  into  one  line  of 
work." 

"Then  you  believe  you're  going  to  earn  more 
money  than  Pollock  does?"  questioned  Dave, 
rather  wonderingly. 

"If  I  pick  out  a  career  for  income,"  Dick  re- 
sponded, "I  do  intend  to  go  in  for  larger  re- 
turns. But  I  may  go  into  another  calling  where 
the  pay  doesn't  so  much  matter." 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      29 

"Such  as  what!"    . 

"Dave,  old  fellow,  can  you  keep  a  secret?" 

"Bosh!    You  know  I  can." 

"A  big  secret!" 

"Stop  that!" 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,  Dave.  By  and  by  there 
are  going  to  be,  in  this  state,  two  appointments 
to  cadetships  at  West  Point.  Our  Congress- 
man will  have  one  appointment.  Senator  Al- 
den  will  have  the  other.  Now,  in  this  state,  ap- 
pointments to  West  Point  are  almost  always 
thrown  open  to  competitive  examination.  All 
the  fellows  who  want  to  go  to  West  Point  get 
together,  at  the  call,  and  are  examined.  The 
fellow  who  comes  off  best  is  passed  on  to  West 
Point  to  try  his  luck." 

"And  you  think  you  can  prove  that  you're 
the  brightest  fellow  in  the  district!"  laughed 
Dave  good-humoredly. 

"There  are  to  be  two  chances,  and  I  think  I 
can  prove  that  I'm  one  of  the  two  brightest  to 
apply.  And  Dave ! ' ' 

"Well?" 

"Why  don't  you  go  in  to  prove  that  you're 
the  other  brightest  fellow.  Just  think!  West 
Point!  And  the  Army  for  a  life  career!" 

"I  think  I'd  rather  scheme  to  go  to  the  Naval 
Academy,  and  become  an  officer  of  the  Navy," 
returned  Dave  slowly.  "The  big  battleships 


30      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

appeal  to  me  more  than  does  the  saddle  of  the 
cavalryman." 

11  Go  to  Indianapolis?"  muttered  Dick,  in  near- 
disgust.  "Well,  I  suppose  that  will  do  well 
enough  for  a  fellow  who  can't  get  to  West 
Point." 

"Now,  see  here,"  protested  Dave  good-hum- 
oredly,  though  warmly,  "you  quit  talking  about 
Indianapolis.  That's  a  favorite  trick  with  fel- 
lows who  are  cracked  on  West  Point.  You 
know,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  the  Naval  Academy 
is  at  Annapolis.  There's  a  vacancy  ahead  for 
Annapolis,  too." 

"Oho!  You've  been  thinking  of  that?"  de- 
manded Dick,  again  looking  into  his  chum's 
eyes. 

"Yes." 

"And  planning  to  go  to  Annapolis'?" 

"Yes;  if  I  can  come  out  best  in  a  competitive 
examination  of  the  boys  of  this  district." 

"Two  secrets,  then — yours  and  mine," 
grinned  Prescott.  "However,  it'll  be  easier  for 
you. ' ' 

"Why?" 

"There  aren't  so  many  fellows  eager  to  go  to 
the  Naval  Academy.  It  doesn't  draw  as  hard 
as  the  Army  does." 

"The  dickens  it  doesn't!"  ejaculated  Dave 
Darrin. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END   31: 

"No;  the  Navy  doesn't  catch  young  enthusi- 
asm the  way  the  Army  does.  You  won't  have 
so  many  fellows  to  compete  with  as  I  shall," 
said  Dick. 

"I'll  have  twice  as  many — three  times  as 
many,"  flared  Darrin.  "The  Naval  Academy 
is  the  only  real  and  popular  school  in  the  United 
Service. ' ' 

"Well,  we  won't  quarrel,"  laughed  young 
Prescott.  "When  the  time  comes  we'll  prob- 
ably find  smarter  young  fellows  ahead  of  us, 
headed  for  both  academies." 

"If  you  do  fail  on  West  Point ?"  quizzed 

Dave. 

"7/1  do,"  declared  Dick,  with  a  very  wistful 
emphasis  on  that  "if,"  "then,  after  getting 
through  High  School  I'll  probably  try  to  put 
in  a  year  or  two  of  hard  work  on  'The  Blade,'  to 
help  my  parents  put  me  through  college. 
They're  anxious  to  make  me  a  college  man, 
and  they'd  work  and  save  hard  for  it,  but  I 
wouldn't  be  much  good  if  I  didn't  try  to  earn  a 
lot  of  the  expense  money.  One  thing  I'm  re- 
solved upon — I'm  not  going  to  go  through  life 
as  a  half-educated  man.  It  is  becoming  more 
true,  every  year,  that  there's  little  show  for  the 
man  with  only  the  half-formed  mind." 

Then  the  two  turned  back  to  the  subject  that 
had  brought  them  out  on  this  September 


32      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

night — the  disappearance  of  Banker  Theodore 
Dodge. 

"In  a  minute  or  two  we'll  be  in  sight  of  the 
river  bend,"  announced  Darrin. 

"There  it  is,  now,"  nodded  Dick,  slowing 
down  the  horse  and  gazing  over  yonder. 
"Some  one  is  there,  and  looking  hard  for 
something. ' ' 

"Yes;  I  make  out  a  couple  of  lanterns,"  as- 
sented Dave.  "Well" — as  Dick  pulled  in  the 
horse — "aren't  you  going  to  drive  over  there?" 

"That's  what  I  want  to  think  about,"  de- 
clared young  Prescott.  "I  want  to  go  at  the 
job  the  right  way — the  way  that  real  news- 
papermen would  use." 


CHAPTER  III 

DICK   STUMBLES   ON   SOMETHING 

A    FEW    moments    later    Dick    Prescott 
guided  the  horse  down  a  shaded  lane. 

"Whoa!"  he  called,  and  got  out. 
"What,   now!"    questioned    Darrin,    as   his 
chum  began  to  hitch  the  horse  to  a  tree. 

"I'm  going  to  prowl  over  by  the  bend,  and 
see  who's  there  and  what  they  are  doing." 

Having  tied  the  horse,  Dick  turned  and  nod- 
ded to  his  friend  to  walk  along  with  him. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      33 

"You  know  Bradley  told  us,"  Prescott  ex- 
plained, "that  the  police  do  not  know  that 
Dodge's  disappearance  has  leaked  out  to  the 
press.  Most  folks  in  Gridley  know  that  I  write 
for  'The  Blade.'  So  I'm  in  no  hurry  to  show 
up  among  the  searchers.  I  intend,  instead,  to 
see  what  they're  doing.  By  going  quietly  we 
can  approach,  through  that  wood,  and  get  close 
enough  to  see  and  hear  without  making  our 
presence  known." 

"I  understand,"  nodded  Darrin. 

Within  two  or  three  minutes  the  High  School 
reporter  and  his  chum  had  gained  a  point  in 
the  bushes  barely  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
away  from  where  two  men  and  a  boy,  carrying 
between  them  two  lanterns,  were  closly  examin- 
ing the  ground  near  the  bank.  One  of  the  men 
was  Hemingway,  who  was  a  sort  of  detective  on 
the  Gridley  police  force.  The  other  man  was  a 
member  of  the  uniformed  force,  though  just 
now  in  citizen's  dress.  The  boy  was  Bert 
Dodge,  son  of  the  missing  banker,  and  one  of 
the  best  football  men  of  the  senior  class  of  Grid- 
ley  High  School. 

"It's  odd  that  we  can't  find  where  the  trail 
leads  to,"  the  eavesdroppers  heard  Hemingway 
mutter  presently. 

"I'm  afraid,"  replied  young  Dodge,  with  a 
slight  choke  in  his  voice,  "that  our  failure  is 

3—  The  High  School  Left  End. 


34      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

due  to  the  fact  that  water  doesn't  leave  any 
trail." 

"So  you  think  your  father  drowned  him- 
self?" asked  Hemingway,  looking  sharply  at 
the  banker's  son. 

"If  he  didn't,  then  some  one  must  have 
pushed  him  into  the  river,"  argued  Bert,  in 
an  unsteady  voice. 

"And  I'm  just  about  as  much  of  the 
opinion,"  retorted  Hemingway,  "that  your 
father  left  his  hat  and  coat  here,  or  sent  them 
here,  and  didn't  even  get  his  feet  wet." 

"That's  preposterous,"  argued  the  son,  half 
indignantly. 

"Well,  there  is  the  spot,  right  there,  where 
the  hat  and  coat  were  found.  Now,  for  a  hun- 
dred feet  away,  either  up  or  down  stream,  the 
ground  is  soft.  Yet  there  are  no  tracks  such  as 
your  father  would  have  left  had  he  taken  to 
the  water  close  to  where  he  left  his  discarded 
garments,"  argued  Hemingway,  swinging  his 
lantern  about. 

"We've  pretty  well  trodden  down  whatever 
footprints  might  have  been  here,"  disputed 
Bert  Dodge.  "I  shan't  feel  satisfied  until  day- 
light comes  and  we've  had  a  good  chance  to 
have  the  river  dragged." 

"Well,  of  course,  it  is  possible  you  know  of 
a  reason  that  would  make  your  father  throw 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      35 

himself  into  the  river?"  guessed  Officer  Hem- 
ingway, with  a  shrewd  glance  at  the  son. 

"Neither  my  mother  nor  I  know  anything 
about  my  father  that  would  supply  a  reason  for 
his  suicide,"  retorted  Bert  Dodge  stiffly.  "But 
I  can't  see  any  reason  for  believing  anything 
except  that  my  poor  dad  must  now  be  some- 
where in  the  river." 

"We'll  soon  be  able  to  do  the  best  that  we 
can  do  by  night, ' '  rejoined  Hemingway.  1 1  Chief 
Coy  has  gone  after  a  gasoline  launch  that  car- 
ries an  electric  search-light.  As  soon  as  he  ar- 
rives we'll  go  all  over  the  river,  throwing  the 
light  on  every  part  of  the  water  in  search  of 
some  further  clue.  There's  no  use,  however,  in 
trying  to  do  anything  more  around  here.  We 
may  as  well  be  quiet  and  wait." 

"I  can't  stand  still!"  sounded  Dodge's  voice, 
with  a  ring  of  anguished  suspense  in  it.  "I've 
got  to  keep  hunting." 

"Go  ahead,  then,"  nodded  the  detective. 
"We  would,  too,  if  there  were  anything  further 
that  could  be  looked  into.  But  there  isn't. 
I'm  going  to  stop  and  smoke  until  the  launch 
heaves  in  sight." 

Both  policemen  threw  themselves  on  the 
ground,  produced  pipes  and  fell  to  smoking. 
But  Bert  Dodge,  with  the  restlessness  of  keen 
distress,  continued  to  stumble  on  up  and  down 


36      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

along  the  bank,  flashing  the  lantern  every- 
where. 

Presently  Dodge  was  within  sixty  feet  of  where 
his  High  School  mates  crouched  in  hiding. 

Suddenly  the  livery  stable  horse,  some  four 
or  five  hundred  feet  away,  whinnied  loudly,  im- 
patiently. 

Natural  as  the  sound  was,  young  Dodge,  in 
the  tense  state  of  his  nerves,  started  and  looked 
frightened. 

"Wh-what  was  that?"  he  gasped. 

"A  horse,"  called  Hemingway  quietly. 
''Probably  some  critter  passing  on  the  road." 

"I  wish  you'd  see  who's  with  that  horse," 
begged  young  Dodge.  "It  may  bring  us  news. 
I'm  going,  anyway." 

With  that,  swinging  the  lantern,  Bert  Dodge 
started  to  cut  across  through  the  woods  with 
its  fringe  of  bushes. 

Dave  Darrin  slipped  away,  and  out  of  sight. 
Before  Dick  could  do  so,  however,  young  Dodge, 
moving  at  a  fast  sprint,  was  upon  him. 

Bert  stopped  as  though  shot  when  he  caught 
sight  of  the  other  boy. 

"Dick  Prescott?"  he  gasped. 

"Yes,"  answered  Dick  quietly. 

"What  are  you  doing  here!" 

"I  came  to  see  what  news  there  is  about  the 
finding  of  your  father." 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      37 

Hemingway  had  now  reached  the  spot,  with 
the  other  policeman  some  yards  to  the  rear. 

"You  write  for  'The  Blade,'  don't  you?" 
challenged  Bert. 

*  *  Yes, ' '  Dick  assented. 

"And  'The  Blade'  people  sent  you  here?" 
cried  Bert  Dodge,  in  a  voice  haughty  with  dis- 
pleasure. 

"Perhaps  'The  Blade'  sent  me  here,"  Dick 
only  half  admitted. 

"Sent  you  here  to  pry  into  other  people's 
affairs  and  secrets,"  continued  young  Dodge 
impetuously.  Then  added,  threateningly: 

"Don't  you  dare  to  print  a  word  about  this 
affair!" 

Dick  looked  quietly  at  young  Dodge. 

"Did  you  hear  me?"  demanded  Bert. 

"Yes." 

"Then  what's  your  answer?" 

"That  I  heard  you,  Bert." 

"You  young  puppy!"  cried  Dodge,  advanc- 
ing threateningly.  "Don't  you  address  me 
familiarly. ' ' 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  addressing  you 
at  all,"  retorted  Prescott,  flushing  slightly  un- 
der the  insult.  "At  present  I  can  make  allow- 
ances for  yeu,  for  I  fully  understand  how 
anxious  you  are.  But  that  is  no  real  excuse 
for  insulting  me." 


38      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Are  you  going  to  heed  me  when  I  tell  you 
to  print  nothing  ahout  my  father's  disappear- 
ance?" insisted  young  Dodge. 

"That  is  something  over  which  you  really 
have  no  control,"  Dick  replied  slowly,  though 
not  offensively.  "I  take  all  my  orders  from 
my  employers." 

"You  young  mucker!"  cried  Bert,  in  exas- 
peration. "You  print  anything  about  our  fam- 
ily misfortunes,  and  I'll  thrash  you  until  you 
can't  see." 

"I  won't  answer  that,"  Dick  replied,  "un- 
til you  make  the  attempt.  But,  see  here,  Dodge, 
you  should  try  to  keep  cool,  and  as  close  to 
the  line  of  gentlemanly  speech  and  conduct  as 
possible." 

"A  nice  one  you  are,  to  lecture  me  on  that 
subject,"  jeered  Bert  Dodge.  "You — only  a 
mucker!  The  son  of " 

"Stop!"  roared  Dick,  his  face  reddening. 
He  advanced,  his  fists  clenched.  "If  you're 
going  to  say  anything  against  my  father  or 
mother,  Bert  Dodge,  then  stop  before  you  say 
it !  Before  I  break  your  neck ! ' ' 

"Stop,  both  of  you,"  interjected  Hemingway, 
springing  between  the  white-faced  High  School 
boys.  "No  blows  are  going  to  be  struck  while 
members  of  the  police  department  are  around. 
Dodge,  of  course,  you're  upset  and  nervous,  but 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      39 

you're  not  acting  the  way  a  gentleman  should, 
even  under  such  circumstances." 

"Then  drive  that  fellow  away  from  here!" 
commanded  Bert. 

"I  can't,"  confessed  the  officer.  "He  is 
breaking  no  law,  and  has  as  much  right  to  be 
here  as  we  have." 

"Oh,  he  objects  to  my  saying  anything 
against  his  father  or  mother,  but  he's  out  to- 
night to  throw  all  manner  of  slime  on  my  fath- 
er's name,"  contended  Bert  Dodge.  His  voice 
broke  under  the  stress  of  his  pent-up  emotion. 

"You're  wrong  there,  Dodge,"  Dick  broke 
in,  forcing  himself  to  speak  calmly.  "  I  'm  here 
to  gather  the  facts  on  a  matter  of  news,  but  I 
am  not  out  to  throw  any  insinuations  over  your 
father,  or  anyone  whose  good  name  is  naturally 
precious  to  you.  Sometimes  a  reporter — even 
an  amateur  one — has  to  do  things  that  are  un- 
pleasant, but  they're  all  in  the  line  of  duty." 

"  'The  Blade'  won't  print  a  line  about  this 
matter,"  raged  Bert  tremulously.  "Mr.  Kip- 
ley  is  my  father's  friend,  and  his  lawyer,  too. 
Mr.  Ripley  will  go  to  your  editor,  and  let  him 
know  what  is  going  to  happen  if  that  scurrilous 
sheet " 

Here  Bert  checked  himself,  for  Dick  had  be- 
gun to  smile  coldly. 

"Confound  you!"  roared  Bert  Dodge.     He 


40      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

leaped  forward,  intent  on  striking  the  young 
junior  down.  But  Officer  Hemingway  pushed 
Dodge  back  forcefully. 

"Come,  come,  now,  Dodge,  we  won't  have 
any  of  that,"  warned  the  officer.  "And,  if  you 
want  my  opinion,  you're  not  playing  the  part 
of  a  gentleman  just  now.  Prescott  understands 
your  state  of  mind,  however.  He  knows  you  're 
so  upset,  your  mind  so  unhinged  by  the  family 
trouble  that  you're  doing  and  saying  things 
that  you'll  be  ashamed  of  by  daylight." 

"I  suppose,  next,  you'll  be  inviting  this  re- 
porter fellow  to  go  on  the  boat  with  us  when  it 
comes,"  sneered  Bert  Dodge. 

"That  would  be  for  the  chief  to  say.  Re- 
porters are,  usually,  allowed  to  go  with  the 
police.  Come,  come,  Dodge,"  urged  Heming- 
way, laying  a  kindly  hand  on  the  young  man's 
shoulder,  "calm  down  and  understand  that 
Prescott  is  not  offering  to  make  any  trouble, 
and  that  he  has  been  very  patient  with  a 
young-  fellow  who  finds  himself  in  a  heap  of 
trouble." 

"I  can  cut  this  short,"  offered  Dick  quietly. 
"I  don't  believe  it  would  be  worth  my  while, 
Mr.  Hemingway,  to  ask  the  chief's  permission 
to  go  on  the  boat  with  you.  'The  Blade'  can 
find  out,  later,  whether  you  discover  anything 
on  the  river. " 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      41 

"Where  are  you  going,  now!"  demanded 
Bert  unreasonably,  as  Prescott  turned  away. 

"Back  to  the  horse  and  buggy,"  Dick  re- 
plied coolly. 

' '  Then  I  'm  going  with  you,  and  see  you  start 
back  to  town,"  asserted  Bert  Dodge. 

Hemingway  did  not  interfere,  but,  leaving 
his  brother  policeman  at  the  river's  edge,  ac- 
companied young  Dodge.  In  a  few  minutes 
they  arrived  at  the  spot  in  the  lane  where  Dick 
had  tied  the  horse.  Here  they  found  Dave 
Darrin  seated  in  the  buggy.  Dave  glanced  un- 
concernedly at  them  all,  nodding  to  Heming- 
way, who  returned  the  salutation. 

"Now,  I'll  watch  you  start  away  from  here," 
snapped  Bert. 

"All  right,  then,"  smiled  Dick,  climbing  in, 
after  unhitching,  and  picking  up  the  reins.  "I 
won't  keep  you  long." 

With  that,  and  a  parting  word  to  the  police- 
man, Dick  Prescott  drove  away. 

"I  saw  Hemingway  coming,  and  knew  you 
wouldn't  need  me,"  Dave  explained  with  a 
laugh.  "So,  to  save  Bert  a  double  attack  of 
nerves,  I  slipped  off  in  the  darkness,  and  came 
here.  But  what  on  earth  ails  Dodge,  anyway?" 

"Why,  for  one  thing,  he's  worried  to  death 
about  the  disappearance  of  his  father,"  replied 
Dick  Prescott. 


42      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"I've  seen  people  awfully  worried  before,  and 
yet  it  didn't  make  madmen  of  them,"  snorted 
Darrin. 

"Well— perhaps " 

Dick  hesitated. 

"Well ?"  Darrin  insisted,  rather  impa- 
tiently. 

"I'm  half  inclined  to  think  that  Bert  Dodge 
has  been  leading  the  soreheads  who  sulk  and 
won 't  play  football  in  the  same  team  with  some 
of  us  common  fellows, ' '  Dick  laughed.  ' '  If  so, 
the  very  fact  of  my  being  sent  to  look  into  the 
news  side  of  his  father's  disappearance  would 
make  Bert  feel  especially  sore  at  me." 

"By  George,  you've  hit  the  nail  right  on  the 
head  there,"  cried  Dave.  "That's  the  trouble. 
Bert  has  been  leading  a  kick  that  was  aimed 
very  largely  at  Dick  &  Co.,  and  now  it  almost 
puts  him  out  of  his  head  to  find  that  Dick  Pres- 
cott,  of  all  the  fellows  in  the  school,  has  been 
sent  by  'The  Blade'  to  gather  the  facts  con- 
cerning Theodore  Dodge's  mysterious  disap- 
pearance— or  death." 

"Mr.  Dodge  isn't  dead,"  replied  Prescott 
slowly. 

"What?  And  say!  Do  you  realize,  Dick, 
that  you're  letting  the  horse  walk?" 

"I  intended  to,"  returned  Dick.     "Whoa!" 

"There's  a  boat  coming  up  the  river  and 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END     43 

showing  a  search-light,"  broke  in  Dave,  point- 
ing. 

"I  saw  it.  That's  why  I  stopped  the  horse. 
It  must  be  Chief  Coy's  launch  that  he  went 
after.  Yes ;  there  it  is,  putting  in  where  we  first 
saw  Bert  Dodge  and  the  officers." 

"Well,  if  you're  not  going  to  keep  track  of 
the  launch,  why  don't  you  hit  a  fast  gait  for 
the  office?"  queried  Darrin. 

"There  is  plenty  of  time  yet,"  Dick  replied, 
"and  we've  nothing  to  report  to  the  office  yet. 
I'm  just  waiting  for  that  boat  to  take  on  its 
passengers  and  get  well  away  from  the  spot." 

"Oh!"  guessed  Dave.  "Then  you're  going 
back  and  make  your  own  search  of  the  place?" 

"You're  clever,"  nodded  Prescott,  with  a 
low  laugh.  "Yes;  it  may  be  that  Hemingway 
and  his  companion  have  made  a  fine  search.  Or 
it  may  be  that  they've  missed  clues  that  a  blind 
man  ought  to  see." 

So  the  two  High  School  boys  sat  there,  in 
the  buggy  drawn  up  at  the  side  of  the  road, 
for  the  next  fifteen  minutes.  In  that  time  the 
launch  took  on  the  waiting  passengers,  and  the 
light  played  over  all  that  part  of  the  river, 
then  started  down  stream. 

Dick  slowly  headed  the  horse  about,  this  time 
driving  much  closer  to  the  river's  bank  than 
he  had  done  before. 


44   THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

" There's  a  lantern  under  the  seat,  Dave.  I 
saw  it  when  we  started  from  'The  Blade'  office. 
Haul  it  out  and  light  it,  will  you?" 

For  some  minutes  the  two  High  School  boys 
searched  without  much  result.  At  last  Dick 
and  Dave  began  to  move  in  wider  circles,  away 
from  the  much-tramped  ground.  Then,  hold- 
ing the  lantern  close  to  the  ground,  Prescott 
moved  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  railway  track, 
all  the  while  scanning  the  soil  closely. 

"Look  there,  Dave!"  suddenly  called  Pres- 
cott. "No — don't  look  just  yet,"  he  added, 
holding  the  lantern  behind  him.  "But  tell  me; 
you've  often  seen  Mr.  Dodge.  What  kind  of 
boots  did  he  wear?" 

"Narrow,  pointed  shoes,  and  rather  high 
heeled  for  a  man  to  wear, ' '  Darrin  answered. 

' '  Exactly, ' '  nodded  Dick.    ' '  Look  there ! ' ' 

Darrin  bent  down  over  a  soft  spot  in  the  soil 
close  to  the  railway  roadbed.  There  were  three 
prints  of  just  such  a  boot  as  he  had  described. 

"You  see  the  small  heel  print,"  continued 
Prescott,  in  a  whisper.  "And  you  note  that  the 
front  part  of  the  foot  makes  a  heavy  impres- 
sion, as  it  would  when  the  foot  is  tilted  forward 
by  a  high  heel." 

"I  don't  believe  another  man  in  the  town  ever 
wore  a  pair  of  boots  such  as  made  these  prints," 
murmured  Darrin  excitedly.  "And  they're 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      45 

headed  away  from  the  river,  toward  the  rail- 
road! And  look  here — other  footprints  of  a 
different  kind!" 

"You're  right!"  cried  Prescott,  holding  the 
lantern  closer  to  the  ground  and  scanning  some 
additional  marks  in  the  soil.  "Coarse  shoes; 
one  pair  of  'em  brogans!  Mr.  Dodge  had  com- 
panions when  he  went  away  from  here. ' ' 

1 1  They  may  have  been  forcing  the  man  some- 
where with  them,"  quivered  Darrin,  staring  off 
into  the  black  night  about  them. 

' '  No ;  not  a  sign  of  a  struggle, J  J  argued  Dick, 
still  with  his  gaze  on  the  ground.  "No  matter 
who  Mr.  Dodge's  companions  were,  he  went 
with  them  willingly.  Gracious,  Dave,  but  we 
were  right  in  believing  the  banker  to  be  still 
alive!  Coat  and  hat  at  the  water's  edge  were 
a  blind!  Mr.  Dodge  has  his  own  reasons  for 
wanting  people  to  think  him  dead.  He  has 
sloped  away.  Here's  the  track.  Which  way 
did  he  and  the  fellows  go?" 

"Away  from  Gridley,"  declared  Darrin, 
sagely.  "Otherwise,  Mr.  Dodge  would  have 
been  seen  by  some  one  who  would  remember 
him." 

"We'll  go  up  along  the  track,  then." 

This  they  did,  but  the  roadbed  was  hard.  Be- 
sides, anyone  walking  on  the  ties  would  leave 
no  trail.  It  was  slow  work,  holding  the  lantern 


46      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

close  to  the  ground  and  scanning  every  step, 
besides  swinging  the  lantern  out  to  light  up 
either  side  of  their  course.  Yet  both  lads  were 
so  tremendously  interested  that  they  pushed  on, 
heedless  of  the  flight  of  time. 

They  had  gone  a  mile  or  more  up  the  track, 
"inching"  it  along,  when  they  came  upon  an 
unmistakable  print  of  Mr.  Dodge's  oddly 
pointed  boot  and  narrow,  high  heel.  They 
found,  too,  the  print  of  a  brogan  within  six  feet 
of  the  same  point. 

"This  is  the  way  Dodge  and  his  queer  com- 
panions came,"  exulted  Dave. 

"But  I  don't  believe  they  followed  the  track 
much  further, ' '  argued  Prescott,  pointing  ahead 
at  the  signal  lights  of  a  small  crossing  station. 
"If  Mr.  Dodge  were  trying  to  get  away  from 
public  gaze  he  wouldn't  go  by  a  station  where 
usually  half  a  dozen  loungers  are  smoking  and 
talking  with  the  station  agent." 

"We're  lucky  to  have  the  trail  this  far,"  ob- 
served Dave  Darrin.  "But  we  can't  follow  it 
accurately  at  night.  Say — gracious!  Do  you 
know  what  time  it  is?  Half-past  one  in  the 
morning!" 

"Wow?"  ejaculated  Prescott,  halting  and 
looking  dismayed.  "It'll  take  us  a  good  many 
minutes  to  get  back  to  where  we  left  the  horse. 
It'll  be  after  two  o'clock  when  we  hit  'The 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      47. 

Blade'  office.  Dave,  we  simply  can't  follow  the 
trail  further  to-night.  But  we  must  strike  it 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  It'll  be  a  big  thing 
for  'The  Blade'  to  be  the  folks  to  find  the  miss- 
ing banker  and  clear  the  mystery  up." 

"  Unless  Dodge  just  kept  on  until  he  came  to 
one  of  the  stations,  and  took  a  train.  Then  the 
trail  would  be  a  long  one." 

"He  didn't  take  a  train  to-night,"  returned 
Prescott,  shaking  his  head.  "If  he  wanted  to 
disappear  that  would  be  the  wrong  way  to  go 
about  it.  He'd  be  recognized  from  the  descrip- 
tions that  will  go  about  broadcast.  No,  sir! 
Mr.  Dodge  must  be  hiding  in  some  of  the  big 
stretches  of  woods  over  yonder.  A  regiment 
could  hide  and  be  lost  in  the  great  woods." 

"It's  a  trail  I  hate  to  leave,"  muttered  Dave 
Darrin. 

"But  we've  got  to  wait  until  daylight.  "We 
can't  do  much  in  the  dark,  anyway.  I've  got 
to  get  back  to  'The  Blade'  office.  Get  your 
bearings  here,  Dave.  To  make  doubly  sure  I'll 
cut  a  slice  out  of  this  tie  to  mark  the  place  where 
we  found  this  print,  for  it  may  be  indistinct  by 
daylight. ' ' 

Marking  the  location  Dick  Prescott  wheeled 
and  began  to  hurry  back,  followed  by  Darrin. 
In  due  time  they  reached  the  buggy,  took  the 
light  blanket  from  the  horse,  unhitched  and 


48      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

jumped  in.  Fast  driving  took  them  to  "The 
Blade"  office. 

"You  didn't  learn  anything,  did  you?"  ques- 
tioned Bradley. 

"Yes;  we  did,"  Dick  informed  him.  "The 
police,  with  their  launch  didn't  get  any  trace 
of  Mr.  Dodge,  did  they?" 

"No,"  admitted  the  news  editor.  "I've 
talked  with  Hemingway  within  the  last  hour. 
The  police  will  begin  dragging  tlie  river  by  day- 
light." 

"They  won't  find  the  banker  that  way," 
chuckled  Dick.  "He's  alive." 

"Have  you  seen  him?"  demanded  the  news 
editor. 

"No;  and  I'm  not  going  to  say  too  much  now, 
either,"  returned  Dick,  with  unusual  stubborn- 
ness. "But  'The  Blade'  wants  to  take  the  key- 
note that  Theodore  Dodge  is  alive,  and  will  turn 
up.  I  believe  Dave  and  I  are  going  to  make  him 
turn  up  during  the  next  spell  of  daylight." 

"We  surely  are!"  laughed  Darrin. 

Mr.  Bradley  pressed  them  close  with  ques- 
tions, but  neither  boy  was  inclined  to  reveal  the 
secret  of  the  trail  along  the  railway  roadbed. 

"We're  going  to  keep  it  all  as  our  own 
scoop,"  Dick  insisted.  "And  please,  Mr.  Brad- 
ley, don't  post  the  police  about  our  idea.  If  you 
do,  the  police  will  get  the  credit.  If  we  keep 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      49 

quiet,  'The  Blade'  will  get  all  tlie  credit  that  is 
coming. ' ' 

The  news  editor  laid  before  Dick  all  the 
proofs  and  copy  that  had  been  prepared  so  far 
on  the  absorbing  mystery  of  the  night.  Pres- 
cott  made  some  newsy  additions  to  the  story,  and 
through  it  all  took  the  confident  keynote  that 
the  vanished  banker  would  soon  be  heard  from 
in  the  flesh. 

The  work  done,  and  Bradley  having  already 
seen  to  the  return  of  the  horse  to  the  livery 
stable,  Dick  and  Dave  went  into  an  unused 
room,  where  they  threw  themselves  down  on  piles 
of  old  papers.  Tired  out,  they  slept  without 
stirring.  But  they  had  left  a  note  for  the  office 
boy  who  was  due  at  six  o'clock  to  sweep  out  the 
business  office. 

That  office  boy  came  in  and  called  the  High 
School  pair  at  a  few  minutes  after  six.  Dick's 
first  thought  was  to  instruct  the  boy  to  tele- 
phone the  Prescott  and  Darrin  homes  at  seven 
in  the  morning,  sending  word  that  the  two  boys 
were  safe  but  busy.  Then  Dick  hastily  led  the 
way  to  a  quick-order  restaurant  near  by.  Here 
the  boys  got  through  with  breakfast  as  quickly 
as  they  could.  That  done,  they  bought  sand- 
wiches, which  they  put  into  their  pockets. 

As  they  came  out  of  the  eating  house  the 
streets  were  still  far  from  crowded.  Laborers 

4—  The  High  Schtol  Left  End. 


50      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

- 

were  going  to  their  toil,  but  it  was  yet  too  early 
for  the  business  men  of  the  city  to  be  on  their 
way  to  offices,  or  clerks  to  the  stores. 

"Now,  let's  get  out  of  the  town  in  a  jiffy," 
proposed  Dick.  "We  don't  want  to  have  many 
folks  observing  which  way  we  go.  We'll  travel 
fast  right  up  along  the  railway  track." 

Once  started,  the  two  boys  kept  going  briskly. 
Both  had  been  drowsy  at  the  outset,  but  the  im- 
pulse of  discovery  had  them  in  its  grip  now,  and 
fatigue  was  quickly  forgotten. 

Something  more  than  half  an  hour  after  the 
start  the  boys  halted  beside  the  tie  that  Pres- 
cott  had  whittled  in  the  dark  a  few  hours  before. 

"There  are  the  footprints,"  quivered  Dave, 
staring  hard. 

"They're  not  as  distinct,  as  they  were  a  few 
hours  ago, ' '  replied  Dick.  ' '  Still,  I  think  we  can 
follow  them.  I'm  glad  they  lead  toward  the 
woods." 

"Yes,"  Darrin  agreed.  "The  direction  of 
the  footprints  shows  that  Mr.  Dodge  and  his 
companions  didn't  have  any  notion  of  boarding 
a  train  and  getting  out  of  this  part  of  the 
world." 

Yet,  though  both  of  these  young  newspaper 
hounds  were  keen  to  follow  the  trail,  they  did 
not  find  it  any  easy  matter.  Dick  and  Dave 
reached  the  edge  of  the  woods.  Then,  for  a 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      51 

short  time,  they  were  obliged  to  explore  care- 
fully ere  they  came  again  upon  one  of  the  boot- 
marks  of  fastidious  Banker  Dodge.  It  was  a 
hundred  feet  further  on,  in  a  bit  of  soft  mould, 
that  the  next  bootprint  was  found.  Had  these 
two  High  School  boys  been  more  expert  trackers 
they  would  have  found  a  fairly  continuous  trail, 
but  their  untrained  eyes  lacked  the  ability  to 
see  other  signs  that  would  have  been  evident  to 
a  plainsman. 

So  their  progress  was  slow,  indeed.  They 
could  judge  only  by  the  direction  in  which  each 
last  footprint  was  pointed,  and  they  had  to  re- 
member that  one  wandering  through  the  woods 
might  travel  over  a  course  whose  direction  fre- 
quently changed. 

"Dave,"  whispered  Prescott,  "I  think  we 
had  better  separate  a  little.  We  might  go 
along  about  a  hundred  feet  apart.  In  that  way 
there  is  more  chance  that  we'll  come  sooner 
upon  the  next  print.'* 

They  were  perhaps  six  hundred  feet  into  the 
woods,  by  this  time,  and  stood  looking  down  at 
the  fifth  footmark  they  had  found. 

"All  right,"  nodded  Darrin.  "We're  a  pair 
of  rank  amateurs  at  this  kind  of  work,  any- 
way. ' ' 

"Amateurs  or  not,"  murmured  Dick,  with  a 
smile,  "we  seem  to  be  the  only  folks  in  Grid- 


52      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

ley  who  are  on  the  right  track  in  this  mys- 
tery at  present 

"I'm  full  of. misgivings,  anyway,"  muttered 
Dave. 

"Why?" 

"I  can't  help  feeling  that  we  should  have 
turned  our  news  over  to  Chief  Coy  or  Heming- 
way. ' ' 

"Again,  why?" 

"Well,  if  we  lose  our  man  now,  we'll  soon 
feel  that  we  ought  to  have  turned  the  whole 
thing  over  to  the  police  while  the  trail  was 
fresh. ' ' 

"Dave,  don't  you  know,  well  enough,  that 
newspapers  do  more  than  the  police,  nowadays, 
in  clearing  up  mysteries!" 

"This  may  be  more  than  a  mystery,"  hinted 
Dave.  "Even  if  we  get  through  to  the  end  of 
this  trail — or  mystery — we  may  find  a  crime  at 
that  end." 

1  i  All  the  more  need,  then,  for  moving  on  fast. 
See-  here,  Dave,  I'll  follow  just  the  way  this 
footprint  points.  You  get  out  a  hundred  feet 
or  so  to  the  right.  And  we'll  move  as  fast  as 
we  can,  now." 

The  wisdom  of  this  plan  was  soon  apparent, 
for  it  was  Dave  Darrin  who  discovered  the  next 
footprint.  He  summoned  Dick  Prescott  with  a 
sharp  hiss. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      53 

"Yes;  all  right,"  nodded  Dick,  joining  his 
comrade  and  gazing  down  at  one  of  the  narrow 
bootmarks.  "But  don't  send  a  long  signal 
again,  Dave.  We  might  be  close,  and  warn 
some  one  out  of  our  way." 

"What  shall  we  do,  then?" 

"We'll  look  frequently  at  each  other,  and  the 
fellow  who  discovers  anything  will  make  signs  to 
the  other." 

Three  minutes  later  Dick  Prescott  crouched 
low  behind  a  line  of  bushes,  his  eyes  glistening 
as  he  peered  and  listened.  Then  he  began  to 
make  wildly  energetic  signals  to  Dave  Darrin. 

The  head  partner  of  Dick  &  Co.  had  fallen 
upon  something  that  interested  him — tremend- 
ously ! 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  "SOREHEADS"  IN  CONCLAVE 

DAVE  DARRIN  came  stealing  over,   as 
soft-footed  as  any  panther. 

Dick  did  not  turn  around  to  look  at 
his  chum.  He  merely  held  up  a  cautioning 
hand,  and  Darrin  moved  even  more  stealthily. 

In  another  moment  Dave's  head  was  close  to 
his  chum's,  and  both  young  men  were  gazing 
upon  the  same  scene. 


54      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"  Davis  and  Fremont "  whispered  Darrin 

in  his  chum's  ear. 

"Bayliss,  Porter  and  Drayne, "  Dick  nodded 
back,  softly. 

"Trenholm,  Grayson,  Hudson,"  continued 
Darrin. 

"All  the  'soreheads,'  "  finished  Dick  Prescott 
for  him. 

"Or  nearly  all,"  supplemented  Dave. 

Indeed,  the  scene  upon  which  these  two  High 
School  boys  gazed  was  one  that  greatly  inter- 
ested them. 

On  a  little  knoll,  just  beyond  the  line  of 
bushes,  and  on  lower  ground,  fully  a  dozen 
young  men  lounged,  basking  in  the  morning  sun, 
which  poured  through  upon  this  small,  treeless 
space. 

Though  the  young  men  down  in  the  knoll  were 
not  carefully  attired,  there  was  a  general  simil- 
arity in  their  dress.  All  wore  sweaters,  and 
nearly  all  of  them  wore  cross-country  shoes. 
Evidently  the  whole  party  had  been  out  for  a 
cross  country  run. 

Now,  the  dozen  or  so  were  eagerly  engaged  in 
conversation. 

"It's  too  bad  Purcell  won't  join  us,"  re- 
marked Davis. 

"Yes,"  nodded  another  fellow  in  the  group; 
"he  belongs  with  us." 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      55 

"Oh,  well,"  spoke  up  Bayliss,  "if  Purcell 
would  rather  be  with  the  muckers,  let  him." 

"Now,  let's  not  be  too  rank,  fellows,"  ob- 
jected Hudson  slowly.  "I  wouldn't  call  all  the 
fellows  muckers  who  don't  happen  to  belong  in 
our  crowd." 

"What  would  you  call  'em,  then?"  growled 
Bayliss  angrily.  "Time  was  when  only  the  fel- 
lows of  the  better  families  expected  to  go  to 
High  School,  on  their  way  to  college.  Now, 
every  day-laborer's  son  seems  to  think  he  ought 
to  go  to  High  School " 

"And  be  received  with  open  arms,  on  a  foot- 
ing of  equality,"  sneered  Porter. 

"It's  becoming  disgusting,"  muttered  Bay- 
liss. "Not  only  do  these  cheap  fellows  expect 
to  go  to  the  High  School,  but  they  actually  want 
to  run  the  school  affairs. ' ' 

"I  suppose  that's  natural,  to  some  extent," 
speculated  Porter. 

"Why?"  demanded  Bayliss,  turning  upon  the 
last  speaker  in  amazement. 

"Why,  the  sons  of  the  poorer  families  are  in 
a  majority,  nowadays,"  returned  Hudson. 

"Say,  you're  getting  almost  as  bad  as  Pur- 
cell,"  warned  Porter. 

"If  I  am,  I  apologize,  of  course,"  responded 
Hudson. 

"I've  no  real  objection  to  the  sons  of  poorer 


56      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

men  coming  to  the  High  School,"  vouchsafed 
Paulson,  meditatively.  "But  you  know  the 
cream,  the  finer  class  of  the  High  School  student 
body,  has  always  centered  in  the  school's  athletic 
teams.  And  now " 

"Yes;  and  now "  broke  in  Bayliss 

harshly. 

"Why,  these  fellows,  who  are  not  much  more 
than  tolerated  in  the  High  School,  or  ought  not 
to  be,  make  the  most  noise  at  the  meets  of  the 
training  squads,"  continued  Paulson. 

"And  some  of  'em,"  growled  Fremont,  "actu- 
ally have  the  cheek  to  carry  off  honors  in  schol- 
arship, too.  Take  Dick  Prescott,  for  instance." 

"Oh,  let  the  muckers  have  the  scholarship 
honors,  if  that's  all  they  want,"  retorted  Bay- 
liss. "A  gentleman  hasn't  much  need  of 
scholarship,  anyway,  if  he's  an  all-around, 
proper  fellow  in  every  other  respect.  But  the 
gang  that  call  themselves  Dick  &  Co.  are  a  fair 
sample  of  the  muckers  that  we  have  to  contend 
with." 

"No,"  objected  Fremont;  "they're  the  very 
worst  of  the  lot  in  the  High  School.  Why,  look 
at  the  advertising  those  fellows  get  for  them- 
selves. And  not  one  of  them  of  good  family." 

"Fellows  of  good,  prominent  families  don't 
have  to  advertise  themselves,"  observed  Bay- 
liss sagely. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      57 

It  was  plain  that,  by  "good"  family  was 
meant  one  of  wealth.  These  young  men  had  lit- 
tle else  in  the  way  of  a  standard. 

"It  makes  me  cranky,"  observed  Whitney, 
"to  see  the  way  a  lot  of  the  girls  seem  to  notice 
just  such  fellows  as  Prescott,  Darrin,  Keade, 
Dalzell — fellows  who,  by  rights,  ought  to  be 
through  with  their  schooling  and  earning  wages 
as  respectful  grocery  clerks  or  decent  shoe 
salesmen. ' ' 

"But  this  talk  isn't  carrying  us  anywhere," 
objected  Bayliss.  "The  question  is,  what  are 
we  going  to  do  with  the  football  problem  this 
year  i  We  don 't  want  to  play  in  the  same  eleven 
with  the  cheap  muckers,  and  have  'em  think 
they're  the  whole  eleven.  The  call  for  the  foot- 
ball training  squad  is  due  to  go  up  some  time 
next  week." 

"Bert  Dodge  says "  interrupted  Paulson. 

' '  Yes ;  Dodge  is  the  fellow  I  wish  we  had  here 
with  us  to-day,"  interposed  Bayliss.  "Dodge 
is  the  one  we  ought  to  listen  to. ' ' 

"Poor  Dodge  has  his  own  troubles  to-day," 
murmured  Hudson. 

* '  Yes ;  I  know — poor  fellow, ' '  nodded  Bayliss. 
"I  wish  we  fellows  could  help  him,  but  we 
can't." 

"I  was  talking  with  Dodge  yesterday,  before 
his  own  troubles  broke  loose,"  went  on  Hudson. 


58      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Dodge's  idea  is  that  we  ought  all  to  keep  away 
when  the  football  squad  is  called.  Then  Coach 
Morton  may  get  an  idea  of  how  things  are  go- 
ing, and  he  may  see  just  what  he  ought  to  do. ' ' 

"But  suppose  the  muckers  all  answer  the  call 
in  force?"  inquired  Trenholm.  "What  are  we 
to  do,  then?" 

"We're  to  keep  out  of  the  squad  this  year," 
responded  Bayliss  promptly.  "See  here,  either 
we  fellows  organize  the  Gridley  High  School 
eleven  ourselves,  and  decide  who  shall  play  in 
it,  or  else  we  stay  out  and  let  the  muckers  go 
ahead  and  pile  up  a  record  of  lost  games  this 
year." 

"That's  hard  on  good  old  Gridley  High 
School,"  murmured  Hudson. 

"True,"  agreed  Fremont.  "But  it'll  teach 
the  town,  the  school  authorities,  the  coach  and 
everyone  else  a  lesson.  It'll  be  understood, 
after  this  year,  that  only  the  prominent  fellows 
in  the  school  should  have  any  voice  in  athletics. 
Let  the  muckers  be  content  with  standing  be- 
hind the  side  lines  and  rooting  for  the  real  High 
School  crowd." 

"Shall  we  put  it  to  a  vote?"  asked  Bayliss, 
looking  about  him. 

"Yes!"  answered  several  promptly. 

"Then,  as  I  understand  it,"  continued  Bay- 
liss, "when  the  football  call  goes  up,  we're  all 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      59 

to  ignore  it.  We're  tox  continue  to  ignore  the 
call,  and  keep  out  of  the  school  football  squad 
this  year,  unless  the  coach  and  the  Athletics 
Committee  agree  that  we  shall  have  the  naming 
qf  the  candidates.  Is  that  the  general  agree- 
ment among  ourselves ! ' ' 

"Yes!"  came  the  chorus. 

"Any  contrary  votes?" 

Momentary  silence  reigned  in  this  conclave  of 
"soreheads." 

"Yet,"  continued  Bayliss,  "we've  started 
training  among  ourselves.  This  morning's 
cross-country  is  part  of  our  daily  training.  If 
we  have  to  refuse  the  football  call,  and  stay  out 
of  the  squad,  are  we  to  drop  our  present  train- 
ing?" 

"Hardly,  I  should  say,"  responded  Fremont. 
"I  have  something  to  suggest  in  that  line.  If 
we  can't  go  into  what  is  really  a  gentleman's 
eleven,  under  the  High  School  colors,  I  propose 
that  we  organize  an  eleven  of  our  own,  and  call 
ourselves  simply  the  Gridley  Football  Club.  We 
can  bring  out  an  eleven  that  would  put  things 
all  over  any  school  team  that  the  muckers  could 
organize  without  our  help." 

"We  wouldn't  play  the  muckers,  would  we?" 
demanded  Trenholm. 

"Certainly  not!"  retorted  Bayliss,  with  con- 
temptuous emphasis. 


60      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"We  won't  even  know  that  a  mucker  High 
School  team  is  on  earth, ' '  laughed  Porter. 

"I  think  we  understand  the  plan  well  enough, 
now,  don't  we?"  inquired  Blaisdell,  rising. 

' '  We  do, ' '  nodded  Porter.  < '  And  we  '11  all  do 
our  full  share  toward  bringing  control  of  High 
School  affairs  back  to  the  aristocratic  leader- 
ship that  it  once  had." 

"Hoist  our  banners,  and  let  them  proclaim: 
'Down  with  the  muckers!'  '  laughed  Hudson, 
rolling  up  the  hem  of  his  sweater. 

"We  want  a  good,  not  too  fast  but  steady 
jog  back  to  town,"  announced  Bayliss. 

At  the  first  sign  that  the  "soreheads"  were 
preparing  to  leave  the  spot  Dick  had  taken  ad- 
vantage of  their  noise  to  slip  away.  Dave  had 
followed  him  successfully. 

Then,  from  another  hiding  place  these  two 
prowling  juniors,  grinning,  watched  the  "sore- 
heads" move  away  at  a  loping  run. 

"We  certainly  know  all  we  need  to  about  that 
crowd,"  muttered  Dick,  a  half-vengeful  look  in 
his  eyes.  "The  snobs!" 

"Oh,  they're  cads,  all  right,"  assented  Dave. 
"Yet  that  bunch  of  fellows  contains  some  of  the 
material  that  is  needed  in  putting  forth  the  best 
High  School  team  this  year!" 

"Humph!"  commented  Dave  disgustedly. 
"Yet,  Dick,  I  was  almost  surprised  that  you 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      61 

would  stop  and  listen,  without  letting  the  fel- 
lows know  you  were  there." 

"It  does  seem  sneaky,  at  first  thought,"  Pres- 
cott  admitted,  almost  shamefacedly. 

"Hold  on  there!"  ordered  Dave.  "I  don't 
believe  you'd  do  a  thing  like  that,  Dick  Prescott, 
unless  you  had  an  honorable  reason  for  it. ' ' 

' '  I  did  it  because  the  honor  of  the  High  School 
is  so  precious  to  me — to  us  all,"  Dick  replied. 
"We  want  to  put  forth  a  winning  team,  as 
Gridley  High  School  has  always  done.  Now, 
these  'soreheads'  aim  to  defeat  that  by 
keeping  a  few  of  the  best  players  off  the  eleven. 
I  listened,  Dave,  because  I  wanted  to  know  what 
the  trouble  was,  and  just  who  was  making  it. 
Now,  I  guess  I  know  how  to  deal  with  the  'sore- 
heads.' I'll  make  them  ashamed  of  them- 
selves. ' ' 

"How?" 

"One  thing  at  a  time,  Dave.  In  our  excite- 
ment we've  almost  forgotten  that  we  started 
out  to  find  Theodore  Dodge  and  clear  up  the 
mystery  of  his  disappearance." 


62      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 
CHAPTER   V 

AT   THE   END   OP    THE   TKAIL 

"'""•"">  HE  further  we  go  the  more  mysterious 

this  becomes,"  mused  Dick,  as  he  and 

Darrin  stood  together  over  a  clump 

of  faintly-marked  footprints,  a  quarter  of  an 

hour  later. 

"How  does  the  mystery  increase?"  Darrin 
inquired. 

"For  one  thing,  we  don't  always  find  the 
bootmarks  of  the  men  who  were  with  Mr. 
Dodge.  Yet  once  in  a  while  we  do.  There  are 
the  prints  of  all  three.  When  Theodore  Dodge 
passed  by  this  way  the  other  two  men  were 
with  him,  or  had  him  in  sight.  And  our  course 
shows  that  the  three  were  plunging  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  woods.  But  come  along.  There 
must  be  an  end  to  this,  somewhere." 

Ten  minutes  later  Prescott  and  Darrin  felt 
that  they  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  mystery. 
For  the  faint  trail  had  led  them  up  a  slight, 
stony  slope,  and  now  the  two  boys  lay  flat  on 
the  ground. 

Below  them,  in  a  bush-clad  hollow,  two  miles 
from  the  world  in  general,  stood  a  little,  old, 
ramshackle  shanty.  The  location  was  one  that 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      63 

seekers  would  hardly  have  found  without  a  trail 
to  lead  them  to  it. 

To  the  door  of  this  shanty  a  broad-shoul- 
dered, rough-looking  and  powerful  fellow  of 
forty  had  just  come.  The  man,  who  was  poorly 
clad,  wore  brogans,  and  held  in  his  right  hand 
a  weighty,  ugly-looking  club.  The  fellow  was 
smoking  a  short-stemmed  pipe,  and  now  stood, 
with  his  left  hand  shading  his  eyes,  peering 
off  at  the  surrounding  landscape. 

Dick  and  Dave  hugged  the  ground  more 
closely  behind  their  screen  of  bushes. 

"It's  all  right,  Bill,"  announced  the  lookout 
in  the  doorway. 

"  'Course  t'is,"  growled  a  voice  from  the  in- 
side. "Too  far  from  the  main  line  o'  travel 
for  anyone  to  be  spying  around.  Besides,  no 
one  guesses " 

* '  Well,  you  can  go  to  sleep  if  ye  wanter,  Bill. 
I'm  go  in'  ter  sit  upland  smoke." 

With  that  the  brogan-shod  man  disappeared 
inside  the  shanty.  Dick  and  Dave  glanced  at 
each  other  with  eager  interest. 

"I  wonder  whether  they  have  Mr.  Dodge 
in  there  with  them?"  breathed  Dick,  in  his 
chum's  ear. 

'  *  If  Mr.  Dodge  is  in  there  he 's  keeping  amaz- 
ingly quiet,"  Darrin  responded  doubtingly. 

"Within  a  very  few  minutes,"  Prescott  re- 


joined,  "I'm  going  to  know  whether  Mr.  Dodge 
is  in  that  shanty." 

"We  found  his  footprint  close  enough  near 
here,"  argued  Dave. 

"Yes,  and  I  feel  sure  enough  that  Mr.  Dodge 
is  there.  But  why  don't  we  hear  something 
from  him?  The  whole  business  is  so  uncanny 
that  it  gives  one  that  creepy  feeling." 

For  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour  the  two  chums 
remained  hidden,  barely  stirring.  From  the 
shanty,  at  first,  came  crooning  tones,  as  though 
the  man  in  brogans  were  humming  over  old 
songs  to  himself.  Occasionally  there  was  a 
snore;  evidently  Bill  was  drowsing  the  day 
away. 

"Now,  I'm  going  down  there,"  whispered 
Dick. 

"Look  out  the  big  fellow  doesn't  catch  you," 
warned  Darrin.  "I've  an  idea  he'd  beat  you 
to  a  pulp  if  he  caught  you." 

"I'm  not  as  big  as  he  is,"  admitted  Dick, 
grinning,  "but  I  think  I  might  prove  as  fast 
as  he  on  my  feet." 

As  Prescott  started  to  steal  down  into  the 
hollow  Dave  reached  about  him,  gathering  all 
the  fair-sized  stones  within  reach. 

"If  Dick  has  to  come  from  there  on  the 
run,"  soliloquized  Darrin,  "a  few  stones  hurled 
at  fte  face  of  that  ugly-looking  customer  might 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      65 

hold  him  back  for  a  while.  And  I  used  to  be 
called  a  pretty  fair  pitcher  1" 

Prescott,  in  the  meantime,  was  stealing 
around  the  shanty,  applying  his  eyes  to  some 
tiny  cracks. 

At  last  he  turned,  making  straight  and  cau- 
tiously up  the  slope. 

As  he  came  near,  Dick  sent  Dave  a  signal 
that  made  that  latter  youth  throb  with  expec- 
tancy. 

"Yes!  We've  found  Theodore  Dodge!" 
whispered  young  Prescott  eagerly.  "He's  in 
there,  lying  on  the  floor,  bound  and  gagged." 

"Whew!    And  what  is  Mr.  Brogans  doing?" 

"Sitting  on  the  floor,  smoking  and  playing 
solitaire  with  a  dirty  pack  of  cards.  The  other 
rascal,  Bill,  is  sleeping  at  a  great  rate." 

"What  are  we  going  to  do  now?" 

"Dave,  are  you  willing  to  stay  here,  hiding 
and  keeping  watch  on  the  place?" 

*  *  Surely, ' '  nodded  Darrin,  with  great  prompt- 
ness. 

1 '  If  the  wretches  should  try  to  take  Mr.  Dodge 
away  from  here " 

"I'll  follow  'em,  of  course." 

"And  leave  a  paper  trail,"  nodded  Dick. 
"Here  is  all  the  paper  I  have  in  my  pockets,'" 
he  added. 

"I  have  some,  too,"  muttered  Dave. 

5— The  High  School  Left  End. 


66      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"1*11  be  back  as  speedily  as  I  can  get  help.'* 

"You  ought  not  to  be  gone  more  than  an 
hour. ' ' 

"Not  as  long  as  that,  I  hope.  Good-bye, 
Dave,  and  look  out  for  yourself." 

After  going  the  first  hundred  yards  Dick 
Prescott  let  himself  out  into  a  loping  run,  very 
much  like  that  used  by  the  *  *  soreheads ' '  in  get- 
ting back  to  town.  With  a  trained  runner  the 
cross-country  style  of  running  is  suited  for  get- 
ting over  long  distances  at  fair  speed. 

Twenty  minutes  later  young  Prescott  reached 
a  farm  house  in  which  there  was  a  telephone. 
He  asked  permission  to  use  the  instrument. 

"Go  right  in  the  parlor,  and  help  yourself,'* 
replied  the  farmer's  wife. 

As  Dick  rang  on,  and  stood  waiting,  trans- 
mitter at  his  ear,  he  first  thought  of  calling  for 
the  police  station. 

"No,  I  won't,  either,"  he  muttered.  "This 
belongs  to  my  paper.  Let  them  tip  off  the  po- 
lice. Hello!  Give  me  'The  Blade'  office,  Grid- 
ley,  please." 

Dick  waited  patiently  a  few  moments.    Then: 

"Hullo!  'The  Blade?'  This  is  Prescott,  Is 
Mr.  Pollock  there?  He  is?  Good!  Tell  him 
I  want  to  speak  with  him." 

Then  Mr.  Pollock's  voice  sounded  over  the 
wire. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      67 

" Hullo,  Prescott!  Why  aren't  you  on  hand, 
with  that  big  Dodge  story  hanging  over  our 
heads?  Why,  it  brought  me  down  hours  be- 
fore my  time." 

"Mr.  Pollock,  I've  found  Dodge,"  replied 

Dick    composedly.      "At    least,    Darrin    and 
j » 

"What's  that!"  broke  in  the  editor's  excited 
voice.  "You've  found  Dodge?  Alive?" 

As  rapidly  as  he  could  young  Presecott  told 
the  story.  Mr.  Pollock  listened  gladly. 

"Now,  where  are  you,  Prescott?" 

Dick  told  Mr.  Pollock  the  name  of  the  farmer 
from  whose  home  he  was  telephoning. 

"Just  you  wait  there,  Prescott.  And,  oh! — 
pshaw!  I  came  near  forgetting  to  tell  you  the 
biggest  news  of  all — for  you.  Mrs.  Dodge  this 
morning  offered  a  thousand  dollars'  reward  for 
the  finding  of  her  husband,  dead  or  alive. 
You'll  get  that  reward — you  and  Darrin!  But 
I've  no  more  time  to  talk.  Stay  right  where 
you  are  until  I  reach  you." 

Nor  was  it  long  before  Dick,  pacing  by  the 
farmyard  gate,  saw  an  automobile  approaching 
at  a  lively  clip.  In  it  were  the  chauffeur  and 
Editor  Pollock. 

The  latter  waved  his  hand  wildly  when  he 
caught  sight  of  his  High  School  reporter. 

Right  behind  this  automobile  sped  another, 


68      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

in  which  sat  Chief  Coy,  Officer  Hemingway  and 
a  uniformed  policeman,  in  addition  to  the  chauf- 
feur. 

"We  didn't  lose  much  time,  did  we?"  hailed 
Mr.  Pollock,  as  the  first  auto  slowed  up. 
"Jump  in,  quick!  Show  us  the  way." 

"I  suppose  there's  some  excitement  down  in 
Gridley,  about  this  time!"  laughed  Dick,  as 
the  two  autos  raced  along  once  more. 

"Not  a  bit,"  replied  the  editor.  "And  for 
the  very  simple  reason  that  no  one  knows  that 
Dodge  has  been  found." 

"His  family  know  it,  of  course!"  queried 
Dick. 

"No;  not  a  word.  Chief  Coy  kept  it  quiet, 
and  asked  me  to  do  the  same.  He  didn't  want 
the  Dodge  family  all  stirred  up  by  false  hopes 
in  case  you  had  made  a  mistake.  The  silence 
will  keep  'The  Evening  Mail'  from  learning  the 
news  for  a  while.  And  I've  had  our  forms  left 
standing.  We're  all  ready  to  run  out  an  extra 
—in  case  you  haven't  made  a  mistake,  Pres- 
cott,"  added  Mr.  Pollock  quizzically. 

Dick  smiled  resignedly  at  this  implied  doubt. 
But  the  autos  were  making  fast  time,  and  soon 
the  machines  had  gone  as  far  on  the  way  as 
they  could  be  used. 

"Now  we'll  have  to  get  out  and  strike  across 
country,  through  the  woods,"  Prescott  called. 


So  far  Dick  had  resolutely  tried  to  keep  out 
of  his  mind  any  thought  of  that  thousand-dollar 
reward.  It  sounded  too  much  like  "blood 
money"  to  take  pay  for  helping  any  afflicted 
family  out  of  its  troubles.  Besides,  it  had  been 
the  glory  of  doing  a  piece  of  bright  newspaper 
work  that  had  allured  the  two  High  School  boys 
at  the  outset. 

"Yet  a  thousand  dollars  is — a  thousand  dol- 
lars!" Dick  couldn't  help  feeling,  wistfully, 
as  he  piloted  his  party  across  fields  and  through 
the  woods.  "A  thousand  dollars!  Five  hun- 
dred apiece  for  Dave  and  me!  What  a  fearful 
big  lot  of  money!  What  we  could  do  with  it, 
if  we  had  it!  I  wonder  whether  it  would  be 
right  and  decent  to  take  it?" 

Then,  as  he  neared  the  place  where  he  had 
left  his  chum  on  post  Dick  Prescott  found  other 
and  anxious  thoughts  crowding  into  his  mind. 

Was  Dave  Darrin,  staunch  and  reliable  Dave 
— still  there,  on  post,  and  unharmed? 

Was  Theodore  Dodge  there?  Were  his  cap- 
tors still  with  him? 


70      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 
CHAPTER  VI 

THE   SMALL   SOUL   OF   A   GENTLEMAN 

A  FEW  minutes  later  all  fears  and  doubts 
were  dispelled. 

Dave  Darrin  rose  to  greet  the  new- 
comers, informing  them,  in  a  whisper,  that  all 
was  still  well  in  the  old  shanty  below. 

He  of  the  brogans  and  club  heard  a  slight 
noise  outside.  Swiftly  he  rose  and  darted  to 
the  door,  ready  to  pounce. 

But  he  beheld  the  policemen,  with  the  news- 
paper trio  just  behind  them.  More,  Chief  Coy 
and  his  subordinates  had  their  revolvers  drawn. 

" Howdy,  gents?"  was  Mr.  Brogans'  greeting, 
as  he  dropped  his  club  and  tried  to  grin. 

"Take  care  of  him,  Hemingway, "  directed 
Chief  Coy,  briefly. 

"Me?"  demanded  Brogans,  in  feigned  aston- 
ishment. "What  have  I  done?" 

The  noise  roused  Bill,  who  sprang  up.  But 
Bill  must  have  found  the  police  wonderfully 
soothing,  for  he  quieted  down  at  once. 

Both  rascals  were  taken  care  of.  Then  Theo- 
dore Dodge  was  found  lying  bound  and  gagged 
on  the  floor.  A  ragged,  foul-smelling  coat  had 
been  substituted  for  the  one  that  had  been  left 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      71 

at  the  river's  bank.  The  banker  looked  up  at 
the  intruders  with  a  stupefied  leer,  betraying 
neither  alarm  nor  pleasure. 

As  soon  as  the  two  rough-looking  fellows  had 
been  handcuffed  Mr.  Dodge  was  freed,  and  his 
tongue  also,  but  Chief  Coy,  after  raising  the 
banker  and  questioning  him,  muttered: 

"  Clean  out  of  his  head.  Daffy.  Must  have 
wandered  away  from  Gridley  during  a  loony 
streak.  He  isn't  over  it  .yet." 

The  two  rough-looking  ones  protested  loudly 
against  being  deprived  of  their  liberty. 

"I  don't  really  know  that  you  fellows  have 
done  anything,"  admitted  Chief  Coy.  "But 
I'm  taking  you  along  on  suspicion  that  it  was 
you,  and  not  Mr.  Dodge  himself,  who  bound 
and  gagged  him." 

This  retort,  given  with  a  great  deal  of  dry 
sarcasm,  silenced  the  prisoners  for  the  time 
being. 

"We  ought  to  have  this  out  an  hour  before 
'The  Evening  Mail'  people,"  exulted  Editor 
Pollock.  "Prescott,  my  boy,  you're  a  born  re- 
porter! And,  Darrin,  you're  not  much  behind. 
' Theodore  Dodge  found  by  two  "Blade"  re- 
porters ! '  That  won 't  sound  bad ! ' ' 

The  briefest  questioning  was  enough  to  show 
that  Theodore  Dodge  was  in  no  condition  to 
give  any  account  of  himself.  He  did  not  reply 


72      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

with  an  intelligible  word.  His  eyes  held  only 
a  vacant  stare.  It  was  as  though  memory  and 
reason  had  suddenly  snapped  within  his  brain. 

"The  doctors  will  want  him,"  commented 
Chief  Coy.  "And  we  can't  be  hustling  back 
a  bit  too  soon. ' ' 

It  had  been  a  gloomy  morning  at  the  home 
of  Banker  Dodge. 

Through  the  night,  none  had  slept.  Anxiety 
had  kept  them  all  on  the  rack. 

Mrs.  Dodge,  a  thin  and  nervous  woman,  had 
gone  from  one  spell  of  hysterics  into  another, 
as  morning  neared.  A  trained  nurse  had  to  be 
sent  for. 

Then  in  a  calm  lull  Mrs.  Dodge  had  tele- 
phoned for  Lawyer  Ripley,  who  lost  his  break- 
fast through  the  speed  with  which  he  obeyed 
the  summons  of  the  distracted  wife. 

As  a  result  of  the  lawyer's  visit  the  reward 
of  a  thousand  dollars  had  been  offered. 

The  house  was  quiet  again.  Dr.  Bentley,  hav- 
ing been  called  for  the  third  time,  had  adminis- 
tered an  opiate,  and  Mrs.  Dodge  was  sleeping. 
The  other  members  of  the  family  tip-toed  rest- 
lessly about. 

Bert  Dodge  felt  in  a  peculiarly  "mean" 
frame  of  mind  that  morning.  The  young  man 
simply  could  not  remain  in  one  spot.  The  more 
he  had  thought,  through  and  through  the  night, 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      73 

the  more  he  had  become  convinced  that  his 
father  had  killed  himself  because  of  some  en- 
tanglement in  the  bank's  affairs. 

"And  I'll  be  pointed  out  as  the  defaulter's 
son,"  thought  Bert  bitterly.  "Oh,  why 
couldn't  the  guv 'nor  think  of  some  one  besides 
himself!  We'll  have  to  move  away  from  Grid- 
ley,  of  course.  But  the  disgrace  will  follow 
us  anywhere  we  may  go.  Oh,  it's  awful — 
awful !  Of  course,  I  'm  not  in  any  way  to  blame. 
But,  oh!  What  a  disgrace!" 

It  was  well  along  in  the  forenoon  when  Bay- 
liss, returning  homeward  in  sweater  and  run- 
ning togs,  espied  Bert's  white,  wan  face  near 
the  front  door.  Bayliss  signaled  cordially  to 
young  Dodge,  who,  glad  of  this  kindliness  at 
such  a  time,  went  down  the  walk  to  the  gate. 

"No  news  of  your  father  yet,  I  suppose!" 
asked  Bayliss. 

"No,"  sighed  Bert. 

"Too  bad,  old  fellow!" 

"Yes;  the  uncertainty  is  pretty  tough  on  us 
all,"  Dodge  replied. 

"Oh,  you'll  hear  before  the  day  is  out,  and 
the  news  will  be  all  right,  too,"  declared  Bay- 
liss, with  well-meant  cheeriness.  "Then  you'll 
be  with  us  on  the  morning  cross-countries  again. 
We  missed  you  a  whole  lot  this  morning,  Bert. ' ' 

"Did  you?"  asked  young  Dodge,  brightening. 


74      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Yes;  and,  by  the  way,  we've  decided  on  our 
course — for  our  set,  you  know.  We're  going 
to  ignore  the  football  call  next  week.  If  Coach 
Morton  asks  us  any  questions,  then  we'll  let 
him  know  how  the  land  lies.  We  won't  try 
to  make  the  High  School  team  if  the  muckers 
are  allowed  the  same  show.  We'll  have  a  select 
crowd  on  the  eleven,  this  year,  or  else  all  of 
our  set  will  stay  off." 

"The  muckers  have  some  good  football  men 
among  them,  too, ' '  grumbled  Bert.  *  *  Of  course, 
for  that  gang  that  call  themselves  Dick  &  Co., 
we  can't  any  more  than  make  guesses.  But 
some  of  them  would  be  handy  on  an  eleven,  I 
guess. ' ' 


. . 


'Yes;  if  they  were  not  muckers,"  agreed 
Bayliss  loftily.  "But  there  are  enough  of  our 
own  kind  to  make  as  good  an  eleven  as  Gridley 
High  School  ever  had. ' ' 

"It's  a  pity  we  can't  get  up  our  own  eleven, 
play  the  muckers,  just  once,  and  beat  them  out 
for  the  right  to  represent  Gridley." 

"It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  an  idea.  But  they 
might  beat  us,"  retorted  Bayliss  dryly.  "So, 
on  the  whole,  our  fellows  have  decided  not  to 
pay  any  heed  whatever  to  Dick  &  Co.  or  any 
of  the  other  muckers.  After  this  the  line  must 
be  drawn,  at  High  School,  between  the  gentle- 
men and  the  other  kind." 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      75 

"All  plans  looking  in  that  direction  will 
have  my  hearty  support/*  pledged  Bert  Dodge. 

"I  know  it,  old  fellow." 

"It's  queer  that  the  question  never  came  up 
before  about  the  muckers,"  Bert  mused. 

"We  never  had  Dick  &  Co.  in  school  ath- 
letics, until  last  year,"  replied  Bayliss  sig- 
nificantly. 

"That  fellow,  Prescott,  is  about  the 
worst " 

Bert  Dodge  stopped  right  there.  Bayliss,  too, 
started  and  turned.  Around  the  nearest  corner 
some  folks  were  making  a  big  noise.  Then 
around  the  corner  came  two  autos,  while  a 
crowd  raced  along  on  the  sidewalks. 

"Hurrah!  Mr.  Dodge  is  found.  Dick  Pres- 
cott and  Dave  Darrin  found  him!"  shouted  a 
score  of  urchins  in  the  crowd. 

Bert  and  Bayliss  both  gasped.  Then  the 
autos  slowed  up  at  the  curb  before  the  gate. 
The  police  prisoners  were  still  in  the  second 
car. 

Bert  took  a  look,  recognized  his  father,  de- 
spite the  strange  look  in  that  parent's  face. 

"Help  them  bring  my  father  in,  Bayliss!" 
called  young  Dodge.  "I'll  run  to  prepare  the 
folks." 

In  another  moment  there  was  a  turmoil  of 
excitement  inside  the  Dodge  house.  While  the 


76      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

excitement  was  still  going  on  Bert  came  out  to 
inform  the  crowd  that  both  his  father  and 
mother  needed  quiet  and  medical  attendance. 
Bert  begged  the  crowd  to  go  away  quietly. 

Dick  and  Dave  were  standing  before  the  gate- 
way while  Editor  Pollock  answered  some  of  the 
queries  of  the  crowd. 

"Great  luck  for  you  fellows,  Prescott  and 
Darrin!"  called  some  one  in  the  crowd.  "You 
two  will  know  what  to  do  with  a  thousand  dol- 
lars '  reward ! ' ' 

Bert  Dodge  wheeled  about  like  a  flash,  and 
facing  Dave  and  Dick,  shouted: 

"If  that's  what  you  two  fellows  are  hanging 
around  here  for,  you'd  better  clear  out!  Take 
it  from  me  that  you  fellows  will  get  no  thousand 
dollars,  or  ten  cents,  out  of  our  family!" 


CHAPTEK  VH 

THE   FOOTBALL   NOTICE   GOES   UP 

ME.  POLLOCK,  usually  a  very  calm  man, 
wheeled  upon  young  Dodge. 

"My  lad,  when  you  find  out  what 
Prescott  and  Darrin  have  done  in  the  way  of 
rescuing  your  father,  you'll  feel  wholly  ashamed 
of  yourself.  I  don't  believe  either  young  man 
has  given  a  second  thought  to  the  reward. ' ' 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      77 

People  in  a  crowd  take  sides  quickly.  Bert 
heard  several  muttered  remarks  from  the  by- 
standers that  made  him  flush.  Then,  choking 
and  angry,  he  turned  and  darted  for  the  house. 

By  this  time  Mr.  Pollock,  Dick  and  Dave  were 
speeding  for  "The  Blade"  office. 

Already  a  run  had  started  on  the  Second  Na- 
tional Bank.  A  crowd  filled  the  counting  room 
and  extended  out  onto  the  sidewalk.  Their 
depositors,  largely  small  business  men  and  peo- 
ple who  ran  private  check  accounts,  were  fright- 
fully nervous  about  their  money. 

Up  to  noon  the  bank  paid  all  demands,  though 
the  accounts  were  adjusted  slowly,  while  the 
crowd  grew  in  numbers  outside.  At  noon  the 
Second  National  availed  itself  of  its  privilege 
of  closing  its  doors  promptly  at  that  hour  on 
Saturday. 

Dick  Prescott  wrote  with  furious  speed  at 
"The  Blade"  office.  In  another  room  Mr.  Poul- 
lock  wrote  from  the  facts  supplied  by  Dave 
Darrin.  In  half  an  hour  from  the  time  these 
three  entered  the  office  the  "Extra"  was  out 
on  the  street — fifteen  minutes  ahead  of  "The 
Mail,"  which  latter  newspaper  contained  very 
little  beyond  the  fact  that  Mr.  Dodge  had  been 
found,  and  that  he  was  now  under  the  care  of 
his  family.  "The  Mail"  stated  that  the  dis- 
covery had  been  made  by  "two  High  School 


78      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

boys ' '  aiding  the  police,  and  did  not  name  either 
Dick  or  Dave. 

On  Monday  the  bank  examiner  arrived.  He 
made  a  quick  inspection  of  the  bank's  affairs, 
and  pronounced  the  institution  "sound."  The 
run  on  the  bank  stopped,  and  timid  depositors 
began  to  bring  back  their  money.  The  mem- 
bers of  the  Dodge  family  could  once  more  hold 
up  their  heads. 

In  the  meantime  Dr.  Bentley  had  called  in  a 
specialist.  Together  the  two  medical  men  de- 
cided that  Theodore  Dodge  had  suffered  only 
from  an  extreme  amount  of  overwork;  that  the 
strain  had  momentarily  unbalanced  his  mind, 
and  had  made  the  deranged  man  contemplate 
drowning  himself. 

By  means  of  a  modified  form  of  the  "third 
degree ' '  Chief  Coy,  by  this  time,  had  succeeded 
in  making  the  two  vagrants  confess  that  they 
had  found  Mr.  Dodge,  with  his  coat  and  hat 
off  standing  by  the  bank  of  the  stream.  Guess- 
ing the  banker's  condition,  and  learning  his 
identity,  the  two  men,  though  they  did  not  con- 
fess on  this  point,  had  evidently  coaxed  the 
banker  away  to  their  shanty  away  off  in  the 
heart  of  the  woods.  Undoubtedly  it  had  been 
their  plan  to  keep  the  banker  under  their  own 
eyes,  with  a  view  of  extorting  a  reward  from 
the  missing  man's  family.  The  judge  of  the 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      79 

local  court  finally  decided  to  send  both  men 
away  for  six  months  on  a  charge  of  vagrancy. 

And  here  the  matter  seemed  to  end.  Though 
Lawyer  Ripley  urged  the  prompt  payment  of 
the  offered  reward  to  Prescott  and  Darrin,  Mrs. 
Dodge,  influenced  by  her  son,  demurred.  At 
Mr.  Pollock's  suggestion  Dick  and  Dave 
promptly  drew  up  and  signed  a  paper  releasing 
the  Dodge  family  from  any  claim.  This  paper 
was  also  signed  by  the  fathers  of  the  two  boys, 
and  forwarded  to  Lawyer  Ripley.  That  gentle- 
man returned  the  paper  to  Dick,  with  a  state- 
ment that  he  might  have  something  to  com- 
municate at  a  later  date. 

Tuesday  morning,  with  many  secret  misgiv- 
ings, Coach  Morton,  who  was  also  one  of  the 
submasters  of  the  High  School,  posted  the  call 
for  the  football  squad.  The  call  was  for  three 
o'clock  Thursday  afternoon,  at  the  gym. 

"Humph!"  was  the  audible  and  only  com- 
ment of  Bayliss,  as  he  stood  before  the  school 
bulletin  board  at  recess  and  read  the  announce- 
ment. 

"I  guess  the  day  for  football  here  has  gone 
by,"  observed  Porter  sneeringly. 

"Of  interest  to  ragamuffins  only,"  sneered 
Paulson,  as  he  turned  away  to  join  Fremont  of 
the  senior  class. 

"Listen  to  the  wild  enthusiasm  over  uphold- 


80      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

ing  the  school's  honor  in  athletics,"  muttered 
Dave,  scowling  darkly. 

"We  knew  it  was  coming,"  declared  Torn 
Eeade. 

Abner  Cantwell  was  still  principal  at  Gridley 
High  School,  though  that  violent-tempered  and 
unpopular  pedagogue  had  been  engaged,  this 
year,  only  as  "substitute"  principal.  There 
were  rumors  that  Dr.  Thornton,  the  former  and 
much-loved  principal,  would  soon  be  in  suffi- 
ciently good  health  to  return.  So  the  Board 
of  Education  had  left  the  way  clear  for  drop- 
ping Mr.  Cantwell  at  any  moment  that  it  might 
see  fit. 

Dick  &  Co.  had  gathered  by  themselves  on 
this  Tuesday,  at  recess.  They  did  not  discuss 
the  football  call,  nor  its  reception  by  the  *  *  sore- 
heads," for  they  had  known  what  was  coming. 
Just  before  recess  was  over,  however,  there 
were  sudden  sounds  of  a  riot  around  the  bulle- 
tin board. 

"Tear  that  down!" 

"Throw  'em  out!" 

"Raus  mit!" 

"The  mean  cheats!" 

There  was  a  surging  rush  of  High  School 
boys  for  the  bulletin  board. 

Bayliss  and  Fremont,  both  of  the  senior  class, 
who  had  just  posted  a  new  notice,  were  now  try- 


The  Scrimmage  at  Eecesa. 

«—  The  High  School  Left  End.  81 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      83 

ing  to  push  their  way  through  an  angry  crowd 
of  youngsters  that  had  collected. 

"They're  no  good!" 

"A  disgrace  to  the  school!" 

"Send  'em  to  Coventry!" 

* '  No !    Handle  'em  right  now  I ' ' 

There  was  another  rush. 

"Get  back,  you  hoodlums!"  yelled  Bayliss, 
his  face  violet  with  rage. 

"I'll  crack  the  head  of  any  fellow  that  lays 
hands  on  me!"  stormed  Fremont. 

"Oh,  will  he?    Come  on,  then,  fellows!" 

Fremont  was  caught  up  as  though  by  a  cy- 
clone. Two  or  three  fellows  seized  him  at  a 
time,  passing  him  down  the  corridor.  The  last 
to  receive  the  hapless  Fremont  propelled  him 
through  the  main  doorway  of  the  school  build- 
ing. Nor  was  this  done  with  any  gentle  force, 
either. 

Bayliss,  not  attempting  to  fight,  was  simply 
hustled  along  on  his  feet. 

Out  of  one  of  the  rooms  near  by  rushed  Mr. 
Cantwell,  the  principal — or  "Prin."  as  he  was 
known,  his  face  white  with  the  anger  that  he 
felt  over  what  he  regarded  as  a  most  unseemly 
disturbance. 

"Stop  this  riot,  young  gentlemen!"  com- 
manded the  principal  sternly. 

"Send  in  the  riot  call,  like  you  did  last  year !" 


84      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

piped  up  a  disguised,  thin,  falsetto  voice  from 
the  outskirts  of  the  rapidly  growing  crowd. 
Quite  a  lot  of  the  girls  had  gathered,  too,  by  this 
time. 

The  principal  turned  around,  sharply,  as  some 
of  the  girls  began  to  giggle.  But  Mr.  Cantwell 
was  unable  to  detect  the  one  who  had  thus 
taunted  him. 

Coach  Morton  peered  over  the  railing  of  the 
floor  above. 

"Mr.  Morton!"  called  the  principal. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Sound  the  assembling  gong,  if  you  please." 

Clang!  clang!  clang! 

The  din  of  the  gong  cut  their  recess  four  min- 
utes short,  but  not  one  of  the  excited  High 
School  boys  regretted  it.  They  had  had  a 
chance  to  express  themselves,  and  now  fell  in, 
filing  down  to  the  locker  rooms,  then  up  the 
stairs  once  more  to  the  assembly  room.  Bay- 
liss  and  Fremont  came  in,  joining  the  others. 
They  were  white-faced,  but  strove  to  carry  their 
heads  very  high. 

The  sounding  of  the  gong  had  stopped  the 
circulating  of  the  paper  that  had  been  so  an- 
grily torn  down  from  the  bulletin  board.  It  was 
in  Dick  Prescott's  hands  now. 

The  notice  had  announced  the  formation  of 
a  "select"  party  for  a  straw  ride  for  the  young 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      85 

men  and  young  women  of  the  junior  and  senior 
classes  on  Thursday  afternoon,  starting  at  two- 
thirty  o'clock.  Invitations  would  be  issued  by 
the  committee,  after  requests  for  tickets  had 
been  passed  upon  by  that  committee.  Bayliss, 
Fremont  and  Paulson  signed  the  notice  of  the 
straw  ride. 

This  was  the  means  by  which  the  ' '  soreheads ' ' 
chose  to  announce  that  they  would  ignore  the 
football  squad  call  for  Thursday. 

Wisely,  for  once,  the  principal  did  not  choose 
to  question  the  young  men  regarding  the  excite- 
ment attending  the  close  of  recess.  Studies  and 
recitations  went  on  as  usual. 

But  feeling  ran  high.  The  " soreheads"  and 
their  sympathizers  were  known,  by  this  time,  to 
all  the  other  young  men  of  the  student  body. 
During  the  rest  of  the  day's  session  many  a 
"sorehead"  found  himself  being  regarded  with 
black  or  sneering  looks. 

Of  course  the  self -elected  "  exclusive"  set  was 
not  numerously  represented  in  the  High  School. 
Most  of  the  boys  and  girls  did  not  come  from 
well-to-do  families.  Some  who  did  had  refused 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  " sorehead" 
crowd. 

The  instant  that  school  was  dismissed  that 
Tuesday  afternoon  scores  of  the  more  boister- 
ous boys  rushed  from  the  building,  across  the 


yard,  and  double-lined  the  sidewalk  leading 
from  the  gateway. 

"Ugh!  ugh!  ugh!"  they  groaned,  whenever 
any  of  the  "soreheads"  tried  to  walk  this  gaunt- 
let in  dignified  silence. 

"Let's  keep  out  of  that,  fellows,"  advised 
Dick,  to  his  chums,  who  grouped  themselves 
about  him.  "Groans  and  catcalls  won't  smooth 
or  soothe  any  hard-feelings." 

"I  don't  blame  any  of  the  fellows  for  what 
they're  doing  to  the  snobs,"  blazed  Dan  Dal- 
zell  indignantly. 

"I  don't  say  that  I  do,  either,"  Dick  replied 
quietly.  "But  there  may  be  better  ways  of 
teaching  fellows  that  they  should  stand  by  their 
school  at  all  times." 

"I'd  like  to  know  a  better  way,  then,"  flared 
Tom  Keade. 

"Let's  have  it,  instanter,  Dick,  if  you've  got 
one, ' '  begged  Greg  Holmes. 

"Yes;  out  with  it,  old  chap,"  begged  Harry 
Hazelton. 

But  Dick  Prescott  smiled  provokingly. 

"Perhaps,  with  the  help  of  some  of  the  rest 
of  you,"  he  replied,  "I  shall  be  able  to  find  a 
way  of  cooling  some  hot  heads.  I  hope  so,  any- 
way. ' ' 

"Dick  has  his  plan  all  fixed,  now,"  Dan  whis- 
pered, hopefully,  to  Tom. 


'THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      87 

"If  he  has,"  quoth  Eeade,  under  his  breath, 
"I  wish  he'd  tell  us  his  scheme." 

" Humph!"  retorted  Dan.  "You  know  Dick 
Prescott,  and  you  know  that  he  never  shoots 
until  he  has  taken  time  to  aim." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

DICK   FIRES   BOTH   BARRELS 

"  S~*\  H — great  Scott!"  gasped  Tom  Reade, 

1  I  as  he  paused  at  an  item  in  "The 
Blade"  the  following  morning. 

That  item  had  been  written  by  Prescott. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  about  it  in  Reade 's 
mind. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Tom's  father. 

"Oh,  Dick  has  been  paying  his  respects  to  a 
certain  clique  in  the  High  School,  I  take  it," 
Tom  replied,  with  a  grin.  "I  heard,  yesterday, 
that  he  was  going  to  shoot  into  that  crowd.  But 
—and  here's  a  short  editorial  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, too.  Wow !  Dick  has  fired  into  the  enemy 
with  both  barrels!" 

A  moment  later  Tom  passed  the  paper  over 
to  his  father.  Dick's  article  read; 

There  is  a  possibility  that  Gridley  High  School  will  not 
be  in  the  front  ranks  in  football  this  year.  Those  who 
know  state  that  a  "sorehead"  combination  has  been  formed 


88      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

by  the  young  male  representatives  of  some  of  our  wealthier 
families.  These  young  men,  having  elected  themselves,  so 
it  is  said,  the  salt  of  the  earth,  or  the  cream  of  a  new  Grid- 
ley  aristocracy,  are  going  to  refuse  to  play  in  the  football 
eleven  this  year. 

Even  young  men  who  belong  to  "prominent"  families 
may  have  some  gifts  in  the  way  of  football  ability.  Three 
or  four  out  of  the  dozen  or  more  "soreheads"  are  really 
needed  if  Gridley  High  School  is  to  maintain  its  standing 
this  year.  The  remainder  of  the  "soreheads"  may,  with 
advantage  to  the  High  School  eleven,  be  excused  from 
offering  themselvs. 

The  "soreheads,"  it  is  stated,  feel  that  it  would  be  beneath 
the  dignity  of  their  families  for  them  to  play  on  an  eleven 
which  must,  in  any  event,  be  recruited  largely  from  the  sons 
of  the  Gridley  families  less  fortunately  situated  financially. 

Strangely  enough,  though  they  don't  intend  to  play  foot- 
ball this  year,  these  "soreheads"  have  been  training  hard 
of  late,  one  of  their  practices  being  the  taking  of  an  early 
morning  cross-country  run  together. 

The  average  young  man  at  the  High  School  is  as  eager 
as  ever  to  uphold  the  town's  and  the  school's  honor  and 
dignity  on  the  football  gridiron  this  year.  Whether  the  so- 
called  "soreheads"  will  reconsider  their  proposed  course  of 
action  and  throw  themselves  in  with  the  common  lot  for 
the  upholding  of  the  Gridley  name  and  the  honor  of  the 
High  School  will  have  been  determined  within  the  next  few 
days.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  this  little  coterie  of 
self-appointed  "exclusives"  will  continue  to  refuse  to  cast 
their  lot  with  the  commoner  run  of  High  School  boys,  to 
whom  some  of  the  "soreheads"  have  referred  as  "muckers." 
A  Gridley  "mucker,"  it  may  be  stated  in  passing,  is  a  Grid- 
ley  boy  of  poor  parents  who  desires  to  obtain  a  decent  edu- 
cation and  better  himself  in  life. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      89 

"Is  that  article  true!"  demanded  Tom 
Reade's  father. 

' '  Yes,  sir, ' '  Tom  responded.  i  l  Dick  wouldn  't 
have  written  it,  if  it  hadn't  been.  But  turn  over 
to  the  editorial  column,  and  see  that  other  little 
bit." 

The  editorial  in  question  referred  to  the  news 
printed  in  another  column,  and  stated  that  this 
information,  if  correct,  showed  a  state  of  affairs 
at  the  High  School  that  needed  bettering.  The 
editor  continued: 

If  there  are  in  the  High  School  any  young  snobs  who 
display  such  a  mean  and  un-American  spirit,  then  the 
thoughtful  reader  must  conclude  that  these  young  men  are 
being  unjustly  educated  at  the  public  expense,  for  such 
boys  are  certain  to  grow  into  men  who  will  turn  nothing 
of  value  back  into  the  community.  Such  young  men,  if 
they  really  need  to  study,  should  be  educated  at  the  ex- 
pense of  their  families.  Both  the  High  School  and  the 
community  can  easily  dispense  with  the  presence  of  snobs 
and  snobbery. 

"I  guess  there'll  be  some  real  soreness  in 
some  heads  this  morning,"  laughed  Tom's 
father. 

"Won't  there!"  ejaculated  Tom,  and  hurried 
out  into  the  street.  It  did  not  take  him  long 
to  find  some  of  his  chums  and  other  High  School 
boys.  Those  who  had  not  seen  "The  Blade" 
read  the  two  marked  portions  eagerly. 


90      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Bert  Dodge  had  "The  Blade"  placed  before 
him  by  his  sister.  Bert  read  with  reddening 
cheeks. 

"That's  what  comes  of  letting  a  fellow  like 
Dick  Prescott  write  for  the  papers,"  Bert 
stormed  angrily.  "That  fellow  ought  to  be 
tarred  and  feathered ! ' ' 

"Why  don't  you  suggest  it  to  the  'sore- 
heads'!" asked  his  sister,  quizzically.  Grace 
Dodge  was  an  amiable,  democratic,  capable  girl 
who  had  gone  through  college  with  honors,  and 
yet  had  not  gained  a  false  impression  of  the  im- 
portance conferred  by  a  little  wealth. 

"Grace,  I  believe  you're  laughing  at  me!" 
flared  the  young  man  exasperatedly. 

"No;  I'm  not  laughing.  I'm  sorry,"  sighed 
the  young  woman.  "But  I  can  imagine  that  a 
good  many  are  laughing,  this  morning,  and  that 
the  number  will  grow.  Bert,  dear,  do  you  think 
any  young  man  can  hope  to  be  very  highly 
esteemed  when  he  sets  his  own  importance  above 
the  good  name  and  success  of  his  school?" 

Bert  did  not  answer,  but  quit  the  house  mood- 
ily. He  encountered  some  of  "his  own  set," 
but  they  were  not  a  very  cheerful-looking  lot 
that  morning.  Not  one  of  the  "soreheads" 
could  escape  the  conviction  that  Dick  Prescott 
held  the  whip  hand  of  public  opinion  over  them. 
What  none  of  them  appreciated,  was  the  moder- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      91 

ation  with  which  young  Prescott  had  wielded  his 
weapon. 

Dodge,  Bayliss,  Paulson  and  Hudson  entered 
the  High  School  grounds  together,  that  morning, 
ten  minutes  before  opening  time.  As  the  quar- 
tette passed,  several  of  the  little  groups  of  fel- 
low students  ceased  their  talk  and  turned  away 
from  the  four  "soreheads."  Then,  after  the 
quartette  had  passed,  quiet  little  laughs  were 
heard. 

All  four  mounted  the  steps  of  the  building 
with  heightening  color. 

Before  the  door,  talking  together,  stood  Fred 
Eipley  and  Purcell,  whom  the  "soreheads"  had 
endeavored  to  enlist. 

"Good  morning,  Purcell.  Morning,  Ripley," 
greeted  Bayliss. 

Fred  and  Purcell  wheeled  about,  turning  their 
backs  without  answering. 

Once  inside  the  building  the  four  young  fel- 
lows looked  at  each  other  uneasily. 

"Are  the  fellows  trying  to  send  us  to  coven- 
try?"  demanded  Dodge. 

"Oh,  well,"  muttered  Bayliss,  "there  are 
enough  of  us.  We  can  stand  it!" 

Yet,  at  recess,  the  "soreheads"  found  them- 
selves extremely  uncomfortable.  None  of  their 
fellow-students,  among  the  boys,  would  notice 
them.  Whenever  some  of  the  "soreheads" 


92      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

passed  a  knot  of  other  boys,  low-toned  laughs 
followed.  Even  many  of  the  girls,  it  proved, 
had  taken  up  with  the  Coventry  idea. 

"Fellows,  come  to  my  place  after  you've  had 
your  luncheons,"  Bayliss  whispered  around 
among  his  cronies,  after  school  was  out  for  the 
day.  "I — I  guess  there  are  a — a  few  things 
that  we  want  to  talk  over  among  ourselves.  So 
come  over,  and  we'll  use  the  carriage  house  for 
a  meeting  place.  Maybe  we'll  organize  a  club 
among  ourselves,  or — or — do  something  that 
shall  shut  us  out  and  away  from  the  common 
herd  of  this  school." 

When  the  dozen  or  more  met  in  the  Bayliss 
carriage  house  that  afternoon  there  were  some 
defiant  looks,  and  some  anxious  ones. 

"I  don't  know  how  you  fellows  feel  about  this 
business,"  began  Hudson  frankly.  "But  I've 
had  a  pretty  hot  grilling  at  home  by  Dad.  He 
asked  me  if  I  belonged  to  the  'sorehead'  gang. 
I  answered  as  evasively  as  I  could.  Then  dad 
brought  his  fist  down  on  the  table  and  told  me 
he  prayed  that  I  wouldn't  go  through  life  with 
any  false  notions  about  my  personal  dimensions. 
He  told  me,  rather  explosively,  that  I  would 
never  be  a  bit  bigger,  in  anyone's  estimation 
than  I  proved  myself  to  be." 

"Hot,  was  he?"  asked  Bayliss,  with  a  half 
sneer. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      93 

"He  started  out  that  way,"  replied  Hudson. 
"But  pretty  soon  Dad  became  dignified,  and 
asked  me  where  I  had  ever  gotten  the  notion 
that  I  amounted  to  any  more  than  any  other 
fellow  of  the  same  brain  caliber. " 

"What  did  you  tell  him?  asked  Bert  Dodge, 
frowning. 

"I  couldn't  tell  him  much,"  retorted  Hudson, 
smiling  wearily.  "Dad  was  primed  to  do  most 
of  the  talking.  When  he  stopped  for  breath 
mother  began." 

"It's  all  that  confounded  Dick  Prescott's  do- 
ings! It's  a  shame!  It's  a  piece  of  anarchy — 
that's  what  it  is!"  muttered  Paulson.  "On  my 
way  here  I  passed  three  men  on  the  street.  They 
looked  at  me  pretty  hard,  and  laughed  after  I 
had  gone  by.  Fellows,  are  we  going  to  allow 
that  mucker,  Dick  Prescott,  to  make  us  by-words 
in  this  town!" 

"No  siree,  no!"  roared  Fremont. 

"Good!  That's  what  I  like  to  hear,"  put  in 
Hudson  dryly.  "And  what  are  we  going  to 
do  to  stop  Dick  Prescott  and  turn  public 
opinion  our  way?" 

"Why " 


Several  spoke  at  once,  then  all  came  to  a  full 


94      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

stop.  The  "soreheads"  looked  at  each  other  in 
puzzled  silence. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do?"  demanded  Fre- 
mont. "How  are  we  going  to  hit  back  at  a 
fellow  who  has  a  newspaper  that  he  can  use  as 
a  club  on  your  head?" 

"We  might  have  a  piece  put  in  'The  Evening 
Mail, '  : '  hinted  Porter,  after  a  dazed  silence. 
"That's  the  rival  paper." 

"Yes!"  chimed  in  Bayliss,  eagerly.  "We 
can  write  a  piece  and  get  it  put  in  'The  Mail.' 
Our  piece  can  say  that  there  has  been  a  ten- 
dency, this  year,  or  was  believed  to  be  one,  to 
get  a  rowdyish  element  of  the  High  School  into 
the  High  School  eleven,  and  that  our  move  was 
really  a  move  intended  to  sustain  the  past  repu- 
tation of  the  Gridley  High  School  for  gentle- 
manly playing  in  all  school  sports.  That  will 
hit  Dick  &  Co.,  and  a  lot  of  others,  and  will  turn 
the  laugh  back  on  the  muckers." 

This  proposition  brought  forth  several  eager 
cries  of  approval. 

"I  see  just  one  flaw  in  the  plan,"  observed 
Hudson  slowly. 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  half  a  dozen  at  once. 

"Why,  'The  Evening  Mail'  is  a  paper  de- 
signed to  appeal  to  the  more  rowdyish  element 
in  Gridley  politics.  'The  Mail's'  circulation  is 
about  all  among  the  class  of  people  who  come 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      95 

nearest  to  being  'rowdyish.'  So  Pm  pretty  cer- 
tain, fellows,  that  'The  Mail'  wouldn't  take  up 
our  cause,  and  hammer  our  enemies  with  the 
word  'rowdy/  'The  Blade'  is  the  paper  that 
circulates  among  the  best  people  in  Gridley." 

"And  Dick  Prescott  writes  for  'The  Blade'!" 

A  gloomy  silence  followed,  broken  by  Bay- 
liss's  disconsolate  query: 

"Then,  hang  it!    What  can  we  do!" 

And  that  query  stuck  hard ! 


CHAPTER  IX 

BAYLISS    GETS    SOME    ADVICE 

ON  that  fateful  Thursday  morning  every 
High    School   boy,    and  nearly   every 
High  School  girl  saw  "The  Blade." 
The  morning  paper,  however,  contained  no  al- 
lusion whatever  to  the  football  remarks  of  the 
day  before. 

Instead,  there  was  an  article  descriptive  of 
the  changes  to  be  made  out  at  the  High  School 
athletic  field  this  present  year,  and  there  were 
points  and  "dope"  (as  the  sporting  parlance 
phrases  it)  concerning  the  records  and  rumored 
new  players  of  other  High  School  elevens  that 
were  anxious  to  meet  Gridley  on  the  gridiron 
this  coming  season. 


96      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Thursday's  article  was  just  the  kind  of  a  one 
that  was  calculated  to  make  every  football  en- 
thusiast eager  to  see  the  season  open  in  full 
swing. 

Again  the  " soreheads"  came  to  school,  and 
once  more  they  had  to  pass  the  silent  groups 
of  their  fellow  students,  who  stood  with  heads 
turned  away.  The  reign  of  Coventry  seemed 
complete.  Never  before  had  any  of  the  "sore- 
heads" understood  so  thoroughly  the  meaning 
of  loneliness. 

At  recess  all  the  talk  was  of  football.  None 
of  this  talk,  however,  was  heard  by  the  "sore- 
heads." Whenever  any  of  these  went  near  the 
other  groups  the  talk  ceased  instantly.  There 
was  no  comfort  in  the  yard,  that  morning,  for 
a  "sorehead." 

When  school  let  out  that  afternoon,  at  one 
o'clock,  Bayliss,  Fremont,  Dodge  and  their  kind 
scurried  off  fast.  No  one  offered  to  stop  them. 
These  "exclusive"  young  men  could  not  get 
away  from  the  fact  that  exclusion  was  freely 
accorded  them. 

Fred  Ripley,  as  had  been  his  wont  in  other 
years  when  he  was  a  freshman,  walked  home- 
ward with  Clara  Deane. 

"Fred,  you  haven't  got  yourself  mixed  up  at 
all  with  that  'sorehead'  crowd,  have  you?" 
Miss  Deane  asked. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      97 

"Not  much!"  replied  Fred,  with  emphasis. 
"I  want  to  play  football  this  year." 

"Will  all  the  'soreheads'  be  kept  out  of  the 
eleven,  even  if  they  come  to  their  senses?" 
Clara  inquired. 

"Now,  really,  you'll  have  to  ask  me  an  easier 
one  than  that,"  replied  Fred  Ripley  laugh- 
ingly. 

"I  had  an  idea  that  all  of  the  fellows  whose 
families  are  rather  comfortably  well  off  might 
be  in  the  movement — or  the  strike — or  what- 
ever you  call  it,"  Clara  replied. 

"Oh,  no;  there's  a  lot  of  us  who  haven't  gone 
in  with  the  kickers — and  glad  we  are  of  it," 
Fred  replied. 

"Still,  don't  you  believe  in  any  importance 
attaching  to  the  fact  that  one  comes  of  one  of 
the  rather  good  old  families!"  asked  Clara 
Deane  thoughtfully. 

"Why,  of  course,  it's  something  to  be  quietly 
proud  of,"  Fred  slowly  assented.  Then  added, 
with  a  quick  laugh : 

"But  the  events  of  the  la?t  two  days  show 
that  one  should  keep  his  pride  buttoned  in  be- 
hind his  vest." 

As  for  the  "soreheads"  themselves,  there 
weren't  any  more  meetings.  As  soon  as  they 
actually  began  to  realize  how  much  amused  con- 
tempt many  of  the  Girdley  people  felt  for  them, 

7—  The  High  School  Left  End. 


98      THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

these  young  men  began  to  feel  rather  disgusted 
with  themselves. 

Across  the  street,  and  not  far  from  the  gym- 
nasium building,  was  an  apartment  house  in 
which  two  apartments  were  vacant.  Being  well 
acquainted  with  the  agent,  Bayliss  borrowed  the 
key  to  one  of  the  apartments.  Before  half  past 
two  that  afternoon,  Bayliss  and  Dodge  were  in 
hiding,  where  they  could  look  out  through  a 
movable  shutter  at  the  gymnasium  building. 

' '  There  go  Prescott,  Darrin  and  Reade, ' '  Bay- 
liss soon  reported. 

1  'Oh,  of  course;  they'll  answer  the  football 
call, ' '  sniffed  Dodge.  '  *  It  was  over  fellows  just 
like  them  that  the  whole  trouble  started. " 

"And  there's  Dalzell,  Hazelton  and  Hanshew. 
Griffith  is  just  behind  them. ' ' 

"Yes;  all  muckers,"  nodded  Dodge. 

"There's  Coach  Morton." 

' '  Of  course ;  he  has  to  attend, ' '  replied  Dodge, 
coming  toward  the  shuttered  window.  "But 
I'll  wager  old  Morton  isn't  feeling  overhappy 
this  afternoon." 

"I  don't  know,"  grumbled  Bayliss.  "There 
he  is  at  the  gym.  door,  shaking  hands  with  Dick 
Prescott  and  Dave  Darrin,  and  laughing  pretty 
heartily." 

"Laughing  to  keep  his  courage  up,  I  reckon," 
clicked  Bert  Dodge  dryly.  "Morton  knows 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END      99 

he's  going  to  miss  a  lot  o*  faces  that  he'd  like 
to  see  there  this  year." 

Then  Dodge  took  up  post  at  the  peephole, 
while  Bayliss  stepped  back,  yawning. 

Several  more  football  aspirants  neared  and 
entered  the  gym.  The  name  of  each  was  called 
off  by  Bert. 

"This  is  the  first  year,"  chuckled  Bayliss, 
"when  Gridley  hasn't  had  a  chance  for  a  star 
eleven. ' ' 

"I'll  miss  the  game,  myself,  like  fury,"  com- 
mented Dodge.  "All  through  last  season,  when 
I  played  on  the  second  eleven,  I  was  looking 
forward  to  this  year." 

"Now,  don't  you  go  to  getting  that  streak, 
and  quit  us,"  warned  Bayliss  quickly.  "Our 
set  is  going  to  get  up  its  own  eleven;  don't  for- 
get that !  And  we  're  going  to  play  some  famous 
games. ' ' 

"Sure!"  admitted  Dodge.  But  there  was  a 
choke  in  his  throat. 

Just  a  few  moments  later  Bert  Dodge  gave 
a  violent  start,  then  cried  out,  in  a  voice  husky 
with  emotion: 

"Oh,  I  say,  Bayliss,  look " 


» 

»»  Jint 

"Hudson!" 

"What  about  him!" 


:  Quick !: 


100    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Well,  you  ninny?'* 

"Hudson  is  going  in  the " 

With  a  cry  partly  of  doubting,  partly  of  rage, 
Bayliss  leaped  forward,  crowding  out  Dodge 
in  order  to  get  a  better  view. 

Hudson  was  actually  ascending  the  gym. 
steps,  and  going  up  as  though  he  meant  busi- 
ness. 

"He's  gone  over  to — to — them!"  gasped  Bert 
Dodge. 

"The  mean  traitor!"  hissed  Bayliss. 

Hudson  did,  indeed,  brave  it  out  by  going 
straight  on  into  the  gym.  As  he  entered  some 
of  the  fellows  already  there  glared  at  him  dubi- 
ously. But  Hudson  met  the  look  bravely. 

' '  Hullo !"  cried  Dick.    "  There 's  Hudson ! ' ' 

Coach  Morton  heard,  from  another  part  of 
the  gym.  Turning  around,  the  coach  greeted 
the  reformed  '  sorehead '  with  a  nod  and  a  smile. 
Then  some  of  the  fellows  spoke  to  Hudson  as 
that  young  man  moved  by  them.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments more,  Hudson  began  to  feel  almost  at 
home  among  his  own  High  School  comrades. 

Then  Drayne,  another  'sorehead,'  showed  up. 
He,  too,  was  treated  as  though  nothing  had  hap- 
pened. When  Trenholm,  still  another  of  the 
"soreheads,"  looked  in  at  the  gym.,  he  ap- 
peared very  close  to  being  afraid.  When  he 
saw  Hudson  and  Dravne  there  he  hastened  for- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    101 

ward.  By  and  by  Grayson  came  in.  At  the 
window  across  the  street  Bayliss  and  Dodge  had 
checked  off  all  four  of  these  " deserters"  and 
"traitors." 

"Well,  they'll  play,  anyway — either  on  school 
or  on  second,"  muttered  Bert,  to  himself.  "Oh, 
dear!  Just  think  the  way  things  have  turned 
out." 

These  four  deserters  from  the  "soreheads" 
were  all  out  of  that  very  select  crowd  who  did 
respond  to  the  football  call. 

Promptly  at  three  o'clock  Coach  Morton 
called  for  order.  Then,  after  a  very  few  re- 
marks, he  called  for  the  names  of  all  who  in- 
tended to  enter  the  football  training  squad  for 
this  season. 

"And  let  every  fellow  who  thinks  he's  lazy, 
or  who  doesn't  like  to  train  hard  and  obey 
promptly,  keep  his  name  off  the  list,"  warned 
the  coach  dryly.  "I've  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  what  we  need  in  this  squad  is  Army 
discipline.  We're  going  to  have  it  this  year! 
Now,  young  gentlemen,  come  along  with  your 
names — those  of  you  who  really  believe  you  can 
stand  Spartan  training." 

"I  think  I  might  draw  the  line  at  having  the 
fox — or  was  it  a  wolf — gnawing  at  my  entrails, 
as  one  Spartan  had  to  take  it,"  laughed  one 
youngster. 


102    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Guess  again,  or  you'd  better  stay  off  the 
squad  this  year,"  laughed  the  coach.  "This  is 
going  to  be  a  genuinely  rough  season  for  all 
weaklings. ' ' 

There  was  a  quick  making  up  of  the  roll. 

"To-morrow  afternoon,  at  three  sharp,  you'll 
all  report  on  the  athletic  field,"  announced 
Coach  Morton,  when  he  had  finished  writing 
down  the  names.  "Any  man  who  fails  to  show 
up  to-morrow  afternoon  will  have  his  name 
promptly  expunged  from  the  squad  rolls.  No 
excuses  will  be  accepted  for  failure  to-morrow.*' 

There  was  a  crispness  about  that  which  some 
of  the  fellows  didn't  like. 

"Won't  a  doctor's  certificate  of  illness  go?" 
asked  one  fellow  laughingly. 

"It  will  go — not,"  retorted  coach.  "Pill- 
takers  and  fellows  liable  to  chills  aren't  wanted 
on  this  year's  team,  anyway.  Now,  young 
gentlemen,  I  'm  going  to  give  you  a  brief  talk  on 
the  general  art  of  taking  care  of  yourselves,  and 
the  art  of  keeping  yourselves  in  condition." 

The  talk  that  followed  seemed  to  Dick  Pres- 
cott  very  much  like  a  repetition  of  what  Coach 
Luce  had  said  to  them  the  winter  before,  at  the 
commencement  of  indoor  training  for  baseball. 

As  he  finished  talking  on  health  and  condition 
Mr.  Morton  drew  from  one  of  his  pockets  a 
bunch  of  folded  papers. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    103 

"I  am  now,"  he  continued,  "going  to  present 
to  each  one  of  you  a  set  of  rules,  principles, 
guides — call  them  what  you  will.  On  this  paper 
each  one  of  you  will  find  laid  down  rules  that 
should  be  burned  into  the  memories  of  all  young 
men  who  aspire  to  play  football.  Do  not  lose 
your  copies  of  these  rules.  Read  the  rules  over 
again  and  again.  Memorize  them!  Above  all, 
put  every  rule  into  absolute  practice. " 

Then,  at  a  sign,  the  young  men  passed  before 
the  coach  to  receive  their  printed  instructions. 

"Something  new  you've  gotten  up,  Mr.  Mor- 
ton?" inquired  one  of  the  fellows. 

' '  No, ' '  the  coach  admitted  promptly.  ' '  These 
rules  aren  't  original  with  me.  I  ran  across  'em, 
and  I've  had  them  printed,  by  authority  from 
the  Athletics  Committee.  I  wish  I  had  thought 
up  a  set  of  rules  as  good." 

As  fast  as  they  received  their  copies  each 
member  of  the  squad  darted  away  to  read  the 
rules  through.  This  is  what  each  man  found 
on  the  printed  sheet: 

"1.  Work  hard  and  be  alive. 

2.  Work  hard  and  learn  the  rules. 

3.  Work  hard  and  learn  the  signals. 

4.  Work  hard  and  keep  on  the  jump. 

5.  Work  hard  and  have  a  nose  for  the  ball. 

6.  Work  hard  all  the  time.    Be  on  speaking  terms  with 
the  ball  every  minute. 


104    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

7.  Work  hard  and  control  your  temper  and  tongue. 

8.  Work  hard  and  don't  quit  when  you're  tackled.    Hang 
onto  the  ball. 

9.  Work  hard  and  get  your  man  before  he  gets  started. 
Get  him  before  the  going  gets  good. 

10.  Work  hard  and  keep  your  speed.     If  you're  falling 
behind  your  condition  is  to  blame. 

11.  Work  hard  and  be  on  the  job  all  the  time,  a  little 
faster,  a  little  sandier,  a  little  more  rugged  than  the  day 
before. 

12.  Work  hard  and  keep  your  eyes  and  ears  open  and 
your  head  up. 

13.  Work  hard  and  pull  along  the  man  with  the  ball. 
This  isn't  a  game  of  solitaire. 

14.  Work  hard  and  be  on  time  at  practice  every  day. 
Train  faithfully.     Get  your  lessons.    Aim  to  do  your  part 
and  to  make  yourself  a  perfect  part  of  the  machine.     Be 
a  gentleman.    If  the  combination  is  too  much  for  you,  turn 
in  your  togs  and  call  around  during  the  croquet  season." 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  as  expounding 
the  law  of  football?"  smiled  coach,  looking 
down  over  Dave  Damn's  shoulder. 

"It  doesn't  take  long  to  read,  Mr.  Morton. 
And  it  ought  not  to  take  long  to  memorize  these 
fourteen  rules.  But  to  live  them,  through  and 
through,  and  up  and  down — that's  going  to 
take  a  lot  of  thought  and  attention." 

To  the  four  ex-"  soreheads "  not  a  word  had 
been  said  about  the  late  unpleasantness,  nor 
was  this  quartette  any  longer  in  Coventry. 

Trenholm,  Grayson,  Drayne  and  Hudson  were 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    105 

the  four  best  football  men  of  the  Bayliss-Dodge 
faction.  Now  that  they  were  to  play  with  the 
High  School  eleven  all  concerned  felt  wholly 
relieved. 

As  the  young  men  were  leaving  the  gym.  that 
afternoon  Coach  Morton  found  a  chance  to  grip 
Dick's  arm  and  to  whisper  lightly  in  his  ear: 

"Thank  you,  Prescott." 

"For  what,  Mr.  Morton." 

"Why,  for  what  you  managed  to  do  to  hold 
the  school  eleven  together.  That  was  clever 
newspaper  work,  Prescott.  And  it  has  helped 
the  school  a  lot.  I'm  no  longer  uneasy  about 
Gridley  High  School  on  the  gridiron  for  this 
season.  We'll  have  a  team  now!" 

With  a  confident  nod  the  coach  strolled  away. 

As  the  gym.  doors  were  thrown  open  the 
members  of  the  new  football  squad  rushed  out 
with  joyous  whoops.  Some  of  the  more  mis- 
chievous or  spirited  actually  tackled  unsus- 
picious comrades,  toppling  their  victims  over 
to  the  ground.  That  line  of  tactics  resulted  in 
many  a  "chase"  that  brought  out  some  remark- 
ably good  sprinting  talent.  Thus  the  squad  dis- 
sipated itself  like  the  mist,  and  soon  the  grounds 
near  the  school  were  deserted. 

Bayliss  and  Bert  Dodge  went  away  to  nurse 
a  grievance  that  nothing  seemed  to  cure. 

For  these  two,  now  that  their  strong  line  of 


106    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

resistance  had  been  broken,  found  themselves 
secretly  longing,  as  had  the  four  deserters,  for 
a  place  in  the  football  squad. 

Bert  Dodge  sulked  along  to  school,  alone  that 
Friday  morning.  Bayliss,  however,  after  a 
night  of  wakefulness,  had  decided  to  "eat 
crow. ' ' 

So,  as  Dick,  Dave  and  Greg  Holmes  were 
strolling  along  schoolward,  Bayliss  overhauled 
them. 

"Good  morning,  fellows,"  he  called,  briskly, 
with  an  offhand  attempt  at  geniality. 

All  three  of  the  chums  looked  up  at  him,  then 
glanced  away  again. 

"Oh,  I  say,  now,  don't  keep  it  up,"  coaxed 
Bayliss.  "We  High  School  fellows  all  want  to 
be  decent  enough  friends.  And  how's  the  foot- 
ball? I  don't  suppose  the  squad  is  full  yet.  I 
— I  half  believe  I  may  join  and  take  a  little 
practice. ' ' 

"Thinking  of  it?"  asked  Dick,  looking  up 
coolly. 

"Yes — really,"  replied  Bayliss. 

"See  the  coach,  then;  he's  running  the 
squad. ' ' 

"Yes;  I  guess  I  will,  thanks.  Good  morn- 
ing!" 

Bayliss  sauntered  along,  blithely  whistling  a 
tune.  He  knew  Coach  Morton  would  give  him 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    107 

the  glad  hand  of  welcome  for  the  squad  and 
the  team. 

' '  Oh,  Mr.  Morton, ' '  was  Bayliss  's  greeting,  as 
he  encountered  the  coach  near  the  school  build- 
ing steps. 

"Yes?"  asked  the  submaster  pleasantly. 

"I — I — er — I  didn't  make  the  meeting  yes- 
terday afternoon,  but  I  guess  you  might  put 
my  name  down  for  the  squad." 

"Isn't  this  a  bit  late,  Bayliss?"  asked  the 
submaster,  eyeing  the  youth  keenly. 

"Perhaps,  a  bit,"  assented  the  confident 
young  man.  "However " 

"At  its  meeting,  last  night,  Mr.  Bayliss,  the 
Athletics  Committee  of  the  Alumni  Association 
advised  me  to  consider  the  squad  list  closed." 

"Closed?"  stammered  Bayliss,  turning  sev- 
eral shades  in  succession.  "Closed?  Do — do 
you  mean " 

"No  more  additions  will  be  made  to  the  squad 
this  year, ' '  replied  the  coach  quietly,  then  going 
inside. 

Bayliss  stood  on  the  steps,  a  picture  of  humili- 
ation and  amazement. 

"Fellows,"  gasped  Bayliss,  as  Prescott  and 
his  two  chums  came  along, ' '  did  you  hear  that  ? 
Football  list  closed?" 

"Want  some  advice?"  asked  Dick,  halting 
for  an  instant. 


108    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Yes,"  begged  Bayliss. 

"Never  kick  a  sore  toe  against  a  stone  wall," 
quoth  Dick  Prescott,  and  passed  on  into  the 
school  building. 


CHAPTER  X 

TWO   GIBLS   TURN    THE   LAUGH 

BY  this  time  training  was  going  on  briskly. 
Four  days  out  of  every  week  the 
squad  had  to  practise  for  two  hours  at 
the  athletic  field. 

There  were  tours  of  work  in  the  gym.,  too. 

Besides,  it  was  ''early  to  bed  and  early  to 
rise"  for  all  members  of  the  squad. 

Even  those  who  hoped  only  to  "make  sec- 
ond" were  under  strict  orders  to  let  nothing 
interfere  with  their  condition. 

Three  mornings  in  the  week  Coach  Morton 
met  all  squad  men  for  either  cross-country  work 
or  special  work  in  sprinting.  And  this  was  be- 
fore breakfast,  when  each  man  was  on  honor 
pledged  to  take  only  a  pint  of  hot  water — 
nothing  more — before  reporting.  On  the  other 
mornings,  football  aspirants  were  pledged  to 
ran  without  the  coach. 

Yet,  with  all  this,  studies  had  to  be  kept  up 
to  a  high  average,  for  no  man  on  the  "unsat" 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    109 

? 
• 

list  could  hope  to  be  permitted  to  play  foot- 
ball. 

Hard  work?  Yes.  But  discipline,  above  all. 
And  discipline  is  priceless  to  the  young  man 
who  really  hopes  to  get  ahead  in  life! 

"You're  not  playing  fair,"  Dave  cried  re- 
proachfully to  his  chum  one  day. 

"Why  not?"  Prescott  questioned  mildly. 

"You're  using  hair  tonic!"  Damn  asserted, 
with  mock  seriousness,  as  he  gazed  at  Dick's 
bushy  mop  of  football  hair.  "You're  growing 
a  regular  chrysanthemum  for  a  top  piece  to 
your  head." 

1  i  Oh,  my  hair,  eh  ? "  smiled  Dick.  ' '  Why,  you 
can  have  as  fine  a  lot  of  hair  if  you  want  to 
take  the  trouble." 

"Don't  I  want  it,  though?"  retorted  Damn. 
"What  kind  of  tonic  do  you  use?" 

"Grease,"  smiled  Prescott. 

"Nothing  but  grease?" 

"Nothing  much." 

"What  kind  of  grease?" 

"Elbow!" 

"Now,  stop  your  joshing,"  ordered  Dave 
promptly.  * l  No  kind  of  muscular  work  is  going 
to  bring  out  a  fuzzy  rug  like  that  on  anyone's 
skypiece. ' ' 

"But  that's  just  how  I  do  it,"  Dick  insisted. 
"Not  a  bit  hard,  either.  See  here!  Just  use 


110    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

your  finger  tips,  briskly,  like  this,  and  stir  your 
whole  scalp  up  with  a  brisk  massage." 

"How  long  do  you  keep  it  up?"  demanded 
Dave,  after  following  suit  for  some  time. 

"Oh,  about  ninety  seconds,  I  guess,"  nodded 
Prescott.  "You  want  to  do  it  eight  times  a 
day,  and  wash  your  head  weekly,  though  with 
bland  soap  and  not  too  much  of  it." 

*  *  Is  that  honestly  all  you  do  to  get  a  Siberian 
fur  wig  such  as  you're  wearing?" 

"That's  all  I  do,"  replied  Dick.  "Except— 
yes;  there's  one  thing  more.  Go  out  of  doors 
all  you  can  without  a  hat." 

"The  active  curry-comb  and  the  vanished  hat 
for  mine,  then,"  muttered  Dave,  with  another 
envious  look  at  Dick's  bushy  hair. 

Nor  did  Dave  rest  until  the  other  chums  all 
had  the  secret.  By  the  time  that  the  football 
season  opened  Dick  &  Co.  were  the  envy  of 
the  school  for  their  heavy  heads  of  hair. 

With  all  the  hard  work  of  training,  Coach 
Morton  did  not  intend  that  the  young  men 
should  be  so  busy  as  to  have  no  time  for  recre- 
ation. He  understood  thoroughly  the  value 
of  the  lighter,  happier  moments  in  keeping 
an  athlete's  nervous  system  up  to  concert 
pitch. 

Though  the  baseball  training  of  the  preced- 
ing spring  had  been  "stiff"  enough,  Dick  &  Co. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    111 

soon  found  that  the  football  training  was  alto- 
gether more  rugged. 

In  fact,  Coach  Morton,  with  the  aid  of  Dr. 
Bentley  as  medical  director,  weeded  out  a  few 
of  the  young  men  after  training  had  been  going 
on  for  a  fortnight.  Some  failed  to  show  suffici- 
ent reserve  "wind"  after  running.  A  few 
other  defectives  proved  not  to  have  hearts 
strong  enough  for  the  grilling  work  of  the 
gridiron. 

All  the  members  of  Dick  &  Co.,  however,  man- 
aged to  keep  in  the  squad.  In  fact,  hints  soon 
began  to  go  around,  mysteriously,  that  Dick  & 
Co.  were  having  the  benefit  of  some  outside 
training.  Purcell  came  to  young  Prescott  and 
asked  him  frankly  about  this  report. 

"Nothing  in  it,"  Dick  replied  promptly. 
"We're  having  just  the  same  training  as  the 
rest  of  the  boys.  But  I'll  tell  you  a  secret." 

"Go  on!"  begged  Purcell  eagerly. 

"You  know  the  training  rules — early  retiring 
and  all?" 

"Yes;  of  course." 

"Well,  we  fellows  are  sticking  to  orders  like 
leeches.  Every  night,  to  the  minute,  we're  in 
bed.  We  make  a  long  night 's  sleep  of  it.  Then, 
besides,  we  don't  slight  a  single  particle  of  the 
training  work  that  we're  told  to  do  by  ourselves. 
We've  agreed  on  that,  and  have  promised  each 


112    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

other.  Now,  do  you  suppose  all  the  fellows  are 
sticking  quite  as  closely  to  coach's  orders?" 

"I — I — well,  perhaps  they're  not,"  agreed 
Purcell. 

"Are  you?"  insisted  Dick. 

"In  the  main,  I  do." 

' '  Oh, ' '  observed  Prescott,  with  mild  sarcasm. 
"  'In  the  main'!  Now,  see  here,  Purcell,  we 
High  School  fellows  are  fortunate  in  having  one 
of  the  very  best  coaches  that  ever  a  High  School 
squad  did  have.  Mr.  Morton  knows  what  he's 
doing.  He  knows  how  to  bring  out  condition, 
and  how  to  teach  the  game.  He  lays  down  the 
rules  that  furnish  the  sole  means  of  success  at 
football.  And  you — one  of  our  most  valuable 
fellows — are  following  some  of  his  instructions 
— when  they  don't  conflict  with  your  comfort  or 
with  your  own  ideas  about  training.  Now, 
honestly,  what  do  you  know  about  training  that 
is  better  than  Coach  Morton's  information  on 
that  very  important  subject?" 

"Oh,  come,  now;  you're  a  little  bit  too  hard, 
Prescott,"  argued  Purcell.  "I  do  about  every- 
thing just  as  I'm  told." 

"You  admit  Mr.  Morton's  ability,  don't 
you?" 

"Yes,  of  course." 

"Then  why  don't  you  stick  to  every  single 
rule  that's  laid  down  by  a  man  who  knows  what 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    113 

he  is  doing?  It  will  be  better  for  your  condi- 
tion, won't  it,  Purcell  ?" 

"Yes,  without  a  doubt." 

"And  what  is  better  for  you  is  better  for 
the  team  and  for  the  school,  isn't  it?" 

1 1  By  Jove,  Prescott,  you  're  a  stickler  for  duty, 
aren't  you?"  cried  Purcell. 

He  spoke  in  a  louder  tone  this  time.  Two 
girls  who  were  passing  the  street  corner  where 
the  young  men  stood  heard  the  query  and 
glanced  over  with  interest. 

Neither  young  man  perceived  the  girls  at  that 
moment. 

"Why,  yes,"  Prescott  answered  slowly. 
"Duty  is  the  main  thing  there  is  about  life, 
isn't  it?" 

"Eight  again,"  laughed  Purcell. 

One  of  the  girls  looked  swiftly  at  the  other. 
They  were  Laura  Bentley  and  Belle  Meade, 
friends  of  Dick 's  and  Dave 's,  and  also  members 
of  the  junior  class. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  take  a  leaf  out  of  your 
book,"  pursued  Purcell.  "I'm  really  as  anxi- 
ous to  see  Gridley  High  School  always  on  top 
as  you  or  any  other  fellow  can  be." 

"Of  course  you  are,"  nodded  Dick.  "The 
way  you  put  our  baseball  team  through  last 
season  proves  that." 

"I'm  going  to  be  a  martinet  for  training, 

8—  The  High  School  Left  End. 


114    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

hereafter,"  Purcell  declared  earnestly.  "I'm 
going  to  be  a  worse  stickler  than  old  coach  him- 
self. And  I'm  going  to  exercise  my  right  as  a 
senior  to  watch  the  other  fellows  and  hold  their 
noses  to  the  training  grindstone." 

"Then  I'm  not  worried  about  Gridley  hav- 
ing a  winning  team  this  year, ' '  Dick  answered. 

"By  Jove,  you  had  a  lot  to  do  with  that,  too, 
didn't  you,  Prescott?"  cried  Purcell.  "You 
put  it  over  the  'soreheads'  so  hard  that  we  never 
heard  from  them  again  after  we  got  started." 

"You  helped  there,  also,  Purcell.  If  you  and 
Ripley  and  a  few  others  had  gone  over  to  the 
'soreheads'  it  would  have  stiffened  their  back- 
bone and  nothing  could  have  made  it  possible, 
this  year,  for  Gridley  High  School  to  have  an 
eleven  that  would  represent  all  the  best  foot- 
ball that  there  is  in  the  grand  old  school." 

In  the  first  two  years  of  their  school  life  Dick 
and  Dave  had  spent  many  pleasant  hours  in  the 
society  of  Laura  and  Belle.  So  far,  during  the 
junior  year,  the  chums  had  had  but  little  chance 
to  see  the  girls,  for  the  demands  of  football  were 
fearfully  exacting. 

Laura,  being  almost  at  the  threshold  of  seven- 
teen years,  had  grown  tall  and  womanly.  Bert 
Dodge  began  to  notice  what  a  very  pretty  girl 
the  doctor's  daughter  was  becoming.  So,  one 
afternoon  while  the  football  squad  was  prac- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    115 

tising  hard  over  on  the  athletic  field,  Bert  en- 
countered Laura  and  Belle  as  they  strolled  down 
the  Main  Street. 

Lifting  his  hat,  Dodge  greeted  the  girls,  and 
stood  chatting  with  them  for  a  few  moments. 
To  this  neither  of  the  girls  could  object,  for 
Bert 's  manners,  with  the  other  sex,  were  always 
irreproachable. 

But,  presently,  Laura  saw  her  chance.  She 
did  not  want  to  be  rude,  but  Bert's  face  had 
just  taken  on  a  half-sneering  look  at  a  chance 
mention  of  Dick's  name. 

"You    aren't    playing    football    this    year, 
Bert!"  Laura  asked  innocently. 
Bert  quickly  flushed. 
"No,"  he  admitted. 

"Of  course  everyone  can't  make  the  eleven," 
Belle  added,  with  mild  malice. 

"I — I  don't  believe  I'd  care  to,"  Dodge  went 
on.  "I — you  see — I  don't  care  about  all  the 
fellows  in  the  squad." 

"I  don't  suppose  every  boy  who  is  playing 
on  the  squad  is  a  chum  of  everyone  else,"  re- 
marked Laura. 

"Such  fellows  as  Prescott,  for  instance,  I 
don't  care  much  about,"  Bert  continued,  with 
a  swift  side  glance  at  Laura  Bentley  to  see  how 
she  took  that  remark.  But  Laura  showed  not 
a  sign  in  her  face. 


116    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"No?"  she  asked  quietly.  "I  think  him  a 
splendid  fellow.  By  the  way,  he  and  Dave  Dar- 
rin haven 't  received  the  reward  for  finding  your 
father,  have  they?" 

Bert  gasped.  His  face  went  white,  then  red. 
He  fidgeted  about  for  an  answer. 

"No,"  he  replied,  cuttingly,  at  last,  "and  I 
don't  believe  they  ever  will." 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  cried  Laura  in 
quick  contrition.  "I  didn't  know  that  it  was 
a  tender  spot  with  you,  or  your  family. ' ' 

"It  isn't,"  Bert  rejoined  hurriedly.  "It 
simply  amounts  to  this,  that  the  reward  will 
never  be  paid  to  a  pair  of  cheeky,  brazen- 
faced  " 

"Won't  you  please  stop  right  there,  Mr. 
Dodge?"  Laura  asked  sweetly.  "Mr.  Prescott 
and  Mr.  Darrin  are  friends  of  ours.  We  don't 
like  to  hear  remarks  that  cast  disrespect  in  their 
direction. ' ' 

'  *  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon, ' '  answered  Bert,  try- 
ing not  to  be  stiff.  But  he  was  ill  at  ease,  leav- 
ing the  girls  very  soon  after. 

Yet,  in  his  hatred  for  Dick  and  Dave,  young 
Dodge  resolved  upon  a  daring  stroke.  He  en- 
listed Bayliss,  and  the  pair  sought  to  "cut  out" 
Prescott  and  Darrin  with  Laura  and  Belle. 

Neither  Dick  nor  Dave  was  in  love.  Both 
were  too  sensible  for  that.  Both  knew  that  love 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    117 

affairs  were  for  men  old  enough  to  know  their 
own  minds.  Yet  the  friendship  between  the 
four  young  people  had  been  a  very  proper  and 
wholesome  affair,  and  much  pleasure  had  been 
derived  on  all  sides. 

Nowadays,  however,  Bert  and  Bayliss  man- 
aged to  be  much  out  and  around  Gridley  while 
the  football  squad  was  at  practice.  Almost 
daily  this  pair  met  Laura  and  Belle,  as  though 
by  accident,  and  the  two  young  seniors  usually 
managed,  without  apparent  intrusion,  to  walk 
along  beside  Laura  and  Belle,  often  seeing  the 
pair  to  the  home  gate  of  one  or  the  other. 

"You  two  fellows  want  to  look  out,"  Purcell 
warned  Dick  and  Dave,  good-naturedly,  one 
day.  "Other  fellows  are  after  your  sweet- 
hearts. ' ' 

"I  wonder  how  that  happened,"  Dick  ob- 
served good-humoredly.  "I  didn't  know  we 
had  any  sweethearts." 

"What  about "  began  Purcell,  wondering 

if  he  had  made  a  mistake. 

"Please  don't  drag  any  girls'  names  into 
bantering  talk,"  interposed  Dave,  quickly 
though  very  quietly. 

So  Purcell  said  no  more,  and  he  had,  indeed, 
meant  no  harm  whatever.  But  others  were  no- 
ticing, and  also  talking.  High  School  young 
people  began  to  take  a  very  lively  interest  in 


118    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

the  new  appearance  of  Dodge  and  Bayliss  as 
escorts  of  Laura  and  Belle. 

Then  there  came  one  especially  golden  day 
of  early  autumn,  when  it  seemed  as  though  the 
warm,  glorious  day  had  driven  everyone  out 
onto  the  streets.  Dodge  and  Bayliss  met  Laura 
and  Belle,  quite  as  though  by  accident,  and 
manifested  a  rather  evident  determination  to 
remain  in  the  company  of  the  girls  as  long  as 
possible. 

Finally  Laura  halted  before  one  of  the  de- 
partment stores. 

" Belle,  there's  an  errand  you  and  I  had  in 
mind  to  do  in  there,  isn't  there?"  Laura  asked. 

"May  we  have  the  very  great  pleasure,  then, 
of  your  leave  to  wait  until  you  are  through 
with  your  shopping!"  spoke  up  Bert  Dodge 
quickly. 

Laura  flushed  slightly.  Just  then  more  than 
a  dozen  of  the  football  squad,  coming  back  from 
the  field,  marching  solidly  by  twos,  turned  the 
corner  and  came  upon  this  quartette.  There 
were  many  curious  looks  in  the  corners  of  the 
eyes  of  members  of  the  squad. 

Despite  themselves  Dick  and  Dave  could  feel 
themselves  reddening. 

But  Laura  Bentley  was  equal  to  the  emer- 
gency. 

"Here  come  the  school's  heroes — the  fellows 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    119 

who  keep  Gridley's  High  School  banner  flying 
in  the  breeze,"  she  laughed  pleasantly. 

Both  Dodge  and  Bayliss  started  to  answer, 
then  closed  their  lips. 

"Won't  you  please  excuse  us,  boys!"  begged 
Laura,  in  her  usual  pleasant  voice.  "Here  are 
Dick  and  Dave,  and  Belle  and  I  wish  to  speak 
with  them." 

From  some  of  the  members  of  the  football 
squad  went  up  a  promptly  stifled  gasp  that 
sounded  like  a  very  distant  rumble. 

Dick  and  Dave,  looking  wholly  rough  and 
ready  in  their  sweaters,  padded  trousers  and 
heavy  field  shoes,  stepped  out  of  the  marching 
formation  as  though  obeying  an  order. 

The  chums  looked  almost  uncouth,  compared 
with  the  immaculate,  dandyish  pair,  Dodge  and 
Bayliss.  The  latter,  with  so  many  amused 
glances  turned  their  way,  could  only  flush 
deeply,  stammer,  raise  their  hats  and — fade 
away! 

The  lesson  was  a  needed  and  a  remembered 
one.  Laura  and  Belle  took  their  afternoon  walks 
in  peace  thereafter. 


120    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 


CHAPTER   XI 

DOES   FOOTBALL   TEACH   REAL   NERVED 

"S~>{  ET  in  there,  Ripley!     Don't  be  afraid. 

I  ~W  It's  only  a  leather  dummy.  It  can't 
hurt  you!  Now,  tackle  the  dummy 
around  the  hips — hoist!" 

A  laugh  went  up  among  the  crowd  as  Fred, 
crouching  low,  head  down,  sailed  in  at  that 
tackling  dummy. 

Young  Ripley 's  face  was  red,  but  he  took  the 
coach's  stern  tone  in  good  part,  for  the  young 
man  was  determined  to  make  good  on  the  eleven 
this  year. 

"Now,  Prescott!  Show  us  that  you  can  beat 
your  last  performance !  Imagine  the  dummy  to 
be  a  two  hundred  and  twenty  pound  center!" 

Dick  rushed  in  valiantly,  catching  the  dummy 
just  right. 

"Let  go!"  called  the  coach,  laughingly.  "It 
isn't  a  sack  of  gold!" 

Another  laugh  went  up.  This  was  one  of  the 
semi-public  afternoons,  when  any  known  well- 
wisher  of  Gridley  was  allowed  on  the  athletic 
field  to  watch  the  squad  at  work. 

For  half  an  hour  the  young  men  had  been 
working  hard,  mostly  at  the  swinging  dummy, 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    121 

for  Coach  Morton  wanted  much  improvement 
yet  in  tackling. 

"Now,"  continued  the  coach,  in  a  voice  that 
didn't  sound  very  loud,  yet  which  had  the  qual- 
ity of  carrying  to  every  part  of  the  big  field, 
"it'll  be  just  as  well  if  you  fellows  don't  get  the 
idea  that  only  swinging  leather  dummies  are  to 
be  tackled.  The  provisional  first  and  second 
teams  will  now  line  up.  Second  has  the  ball  on 
its  own  twenty-yard  line,  and  is  trying  to  save 
its  goal.  You  fellows  on  second  hustle  with  all 
your  might  to  get  the  ball  through  the  ranks  of 
the  first,  or  School  eleven.  Fight  for  all  you're 
worth  to  get  that  ball  on  the  go  and  keep  it 
going!  You  fellows  of  the  first,  or  School 
eleven,  I  want  to  see  what  you  can  do  with  real 
tackling." 

There  was  a  hasty  adjusting  of  nose-guards 
by  those  who  wore  that  protection.  The  ball 
was  placed,  the  quarter-back  of  the  second 
eleven  bending  low  to  catch  it,  at  the  same  tune 
comprehending  the  signal  that  sounded  briskly. 

The  whistle  blew;  the  ball  was  snapped,  and 
quarter-back  darted  to  the  right,  passing  the 
ball.  Second's  right  tackle  had  been  chosen  to 
receive  and  break  through  the  School's  line. 
On  School's  left,  Dick  and  Ripley  raced  in  to- 
gether, while  second's  interference  crashed  into 
the  pair  of  former  enemies  as  right  tackle  tried 


122    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

to  go  through.  But  Fred  Ripley  was  as  much 
out  for  team  work  this  day  as  any  fellow  on  the 
field.  He  made  a  fast  sprint,  as  though  to 
tackle,  yet  meaning  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort. 
Dick,  too,  understood.  He  let  Ripley  get  two 
or  three  feet  in  the  lead.  At  Ripley,  therefore, 
the  second's  interference  hurled  itself  savagely. 
It  was  all  done  so  quickly  that  the  beguiled  sec- 
ond had  no  time  to  rectify  its  blunder ;  for  Fred 
Ripley  was  in  the  center  of  the  squirming,  inter- 
fering bunch  and  Dick  Prescott  had  made  a  fair, 
firm,  abrupt  tackle.  In  an  instant  the  ball  was 
"down."  Second  had  gained  less  than  a  yard. 

"Good  work !"  the  coach  shouted,  after  sound- 
ing the  whistle.  "Ripley  and  Prescott,  that 
was  the  right  sort  of  team  work." 

Again  second  essayed  to  get  away  with  the 
ball.  This  time  the  forward  pass  was  em- 
ployed— that  is  to  say,  attempted.  Hudson 
and  Purcell,  by  another  clever  feint,  got  the  ball 
stopped  and  down;  third  time,  and  second  lost 
the  ball  on  downs. 

Now  School  had  the  ball.  As  the  quarter- 
back's signals  rang  out  there  was  perceptible 
activity  and  alertness  at  School's  right  end.  As 
the  ball  was  snapped,  School's  right  wing  went 
through  the  needful  movements,  but  Dick  Pres- 
cott, over  at  left  end,  had  the  ball.  Ripley  and 
Purcell  were  supporting  him. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    123 

Straight  into  the  opposing  ranks  went  Ripley 
and  Purcell,  the  rest  of  the  school  team  support- 
ing, it  was  team  work  again.  Dick  was  halted, 
for  an  instant.  Then,  backed  by  his  supporters, 
he  dashed  through  the  opposition — on  and  on! 
Twice  Dick  was  on  the  point  of  being  tackled, 
but  each  time  his  interference  carried  him 
through.  He  was  over  second's  line — touch- 
down, and  the  whistle  sounded  shrilly,  just  a 
second  ahead  of  cheers  from  some  hundred  on- 
lookers. 

As  Dick  came  back  he  limped  just  a  bit. 

"I  tell  you,  it  takes  nerve,  and  a  lot  of  it,  to 
play  that  game,"  remarked  one  citizen  admir- 
ingly. 

"Nerve!  pooh!"  retorted  his  companion. 
"Just  a  hoodlum  footrace,  with  some  bumping, 
and  then  the  whistle  blows  while  a  lot  of  boys 
are  rolling  over  one  another.  The  whistle  al- 
ways blows  just  at  the  point  when  there  might 
be  some  use  for  nerve." 

The  first  speaker  looked  at  his  doubtful  com- 
panion quizzically. 

"Would  it  take  any  nerve  for  you,"  he  de- 
manded, * '  to  jump  in  where  you  knew  there  was 
a  good  chance  of  your  being  killed!" 

"Yes;  I  suppose  so,"  admitted  the  kicker. 

"Well,  every  season  a  score  or  two  of  foot- 
ball players  are  killed,  or  crippled  for  life." 


124    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"But  they're  not  looking  for  it,"  objected  the 
kicker,  "or  they  wouldn't  go  in  so  swift  and 
hard.  Real  nerve?  I'd  believe  in  that  more  if 
I  ever  heard  of  one  of  these  nimble- jack  racers 
taking  a  big  chance  with  his  life  off  the  field, 
and  where  there  was  no  crowd  of  wild  galoots 
to  look  on  and  cheer!" 

"Of  course  killing  and  maiming  are  not  the 
real  objects  of  the  game,"  pursued  the  first 
speaker.  "Coaches  and  other  good  friends  of 
the  game  are  always  hoping  to  discover  some 
forms  of  rules  that  will  make  football  safer. 
Yet  I  can't  help  feeling  that  the  present  game, 
despite  the  occasional  loss  of  life  or  injury  to 
limb,  puts  enough  of  strong,  fighting  manhood 
into  the  players  to  make  the  game  worth  all  it 
costs. ' ' 

"I  want  to  see  the  nerve,  and  I  want  to  see 
the  game  prove  its  worth, ' '  insisted  the  kicker. 

Second  eleven,  though  made  up  of  bright, 
husky  boys,  was  having  a  hard  time  of  it.  Thrice 
coach  arbitrarily  advanced  the  ball  for  second, 
in  order  to  give  that  team  a  better  chance  with 
High  School  eleven. 

And  now  the  practice  was  over  for  the  after- 
noon. The  whistle  between  coach's  lips 
sounded  three  prolonged  blasts,  and  the  young 
players,  flushed,  perspiring — aching  a  bit,  too — 
came  off  the  field.  Togs  were  laid  aside  and 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    125 

some  time  was  spent  under  the  shower  baths 
and  in  toweling.  Only  a  small  part  of  the  late 
crowd  of  watchers  remained  at  the  athletic  field. 
But  the  kicker  and  his  companion  were  among 
those  who  stayed. 

Coach  Morton  stood  for  a  time  talking  with 
some  citizens  who  had  lingered.  As  most  of 
these  men  were  contributors  to  the  athletic 
funds  they  were  anxious  for  information. 

"Do  you  consider  the  prospects  good  for  the 
team  this  year?"  asked  one  man. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Morton  promptly. 

"Is  the  School  eleven  decided  upon  in  de- 
tail!" questioned  another. 

"No;  of  course  not,  as  yet.  Each  day  some 
of  the  young  men  develop  new  points — of  excel- 
lence, or  otherwise.  The  division  into  School 
and  second  teams,  that  you  saw  this  afternoon, 
may  not  be  the  final  division.  In  fact,  not  more 
than  five  or  six  of  the  young  men  have  been 
definitely  picked  as  sure  to  make  the  School 
team.  We  shall  have  it  all  decided  within  a  few 
days. ' ' 

"But  you're  rather  certain,"  insisted  another, 
"that  Gridley  is  going  to  have  as  fine  a  School 
team  as  it  has  ever  had?" 

"It  would  be  going  too  far  to  say  that,"  re- 
plied Coach  Morton  slowly.  "The  truth  is,  we 
never  know  anything  for  certain  until  we  have 


126    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

seen  our  boys  play  through  the  first  game.  Our 
judgment  is  even  more  reliable  after  they've 
been  through  the  second  game." 

By  this  time,  some  of  the  football  squad  were 
coming  out  of  locker  rooms,  heading  across  the 
field  to  the  gate.  Coach  Morton  and  the  little 
group  of  citizens  turned  and  went  along  slowly 
after  them.  The  kicker  was  still  on  hand. 

Just  as  the  boys  neared  the  gate  there  were 
heard  sounds  of  great  commotion  on  the  other 
side  of  the  high  board  fence.  There  were  sev- 
eral excited  yells,  the  sound  of  running  feet,  and 
then  more  distinct  cries. 

* '  He 's  bent  on  killing  the  officer !    Run ! ' J 

"Look  out!    Here  he  comes!    Scoot!" 

"He's  crazy!" 

Then  came  several  more  yells,  a  note  of  terror 
in  them  all. 

Five  youngsters  of  the  football  squad  were 
so  near  the  gate  that  they  broke  into  a  run  for 
the  open.  Coach  Morton,  too,  sped  ahead  at 
full  steam,  though  he  was  some  distance  behind 
the  members  of  the  squad.  The  citizens  fol- 
lowed, running  and  puffing. 

Once  outside,  they  all  came  upon  a  curious 
sight.  One  of  the  smallest  members  of  Grid- 
ley  's  police  force  had  attempted  to  stop  a  big, 
red-faced,  broad-shouldered  man  who,  coatless 
and  hatless,  had  come  running  down  the  street. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    127 

Two  men  had  gotten  in  the  way  of  this  fellow 
and  had  been  knocked  over.  Then  the  little 
policeman  had  darted  in,  bent  on  distinguishing 
himself.  But  the  red-faced  man,  crazed  by 
drink,  had  bowled  over  the  policeman  and  had 
fallen  on  top  of  him.  The  victor  had  begun  to 
beat  the  police  officer  when  the  sight  of  a  rap- 
idly-growing crowd  angered  the  fellow. 

Leaping  up,  the  red-faced  one  had  glared 
about  him,  wondering  whom  next  to  attack,  while 
the  officer  lay  on  his  back,  more  than  half -dazed. 

Making  up  his  mind  to  catch  and  thrash  some 
one,  the  red-faced  man  came  along,  shouting 
savagely.  It  was  just  at  this  moment  that  Dick 
Prescott  and  Greg  Holmes,  sprinting  fast,  came 
out  through  the  gateway. 

"Look  out,  boys!  He'll  kill  you!"  shouted 
one  well-meaning  citizen  in  the  background. 

"Will  he?"  grunted  Dick  grimly.  "Greg, 
I'll  tackle  the  fellow — you  be  ready  to  fall  on 
him.  Head  down,  now — charge!" 

As  though  they  had  darted  around  the  right 
end  of  the  football  battle  line,  and  had  sighted 
the  enemy's  goal  line,  Prescott  and  Holmes 
charged  straight  for  the  infuriated  fellow. 

"Get  outer  my  way!"  roared  red-face,  turn- 
ing slightly  and  running  furiously  at  them. 

Dick's  head  was  down,  but  that  did  not  pre- 
vent his  seeing  through  his  long  hair. 


128    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Get  out  of  my  way,  you  kid!"  gasped  the 
big  fellow,  halting  in  his  amazement,  as  he  saw 
this  youngster  coming  straight  at  him. 

Greg  was  off  the  sidewalk,  running  a  few  feet 
out  from  the  gutter. 

But  Dick  sailed  straight  in.  As  he  came 
close,  red-face  seemed  to  feel  uneasy  about  this 
reckless  boy,  for  the  big  fellow,  holding  his  fists 
so  that  he  could  use  them,  swerved  slightly  to 
one  side. 

Fifty  people  were  looking  on,  now,  most  of 
them  amazed  and  fearing  for  young  Prescott. 

But  Dick,  running  still  lower,  charged 
straight  for  his  man.  The  big  fellow,  with  a 
bellow,  aimed  his  fists. 

Dick  wasn't  hit,  however.  Instead,  he  grap- 
pled with  the  fellow,  jup.t  below  the  thighs,  then 
straightened  up  somewhat — all  quick  as  a  flash. 

That  big  mountain  of  flesh  swayed,  then  top- 
pled. Red-face  went  down,  not  with  a  crash, 
but  more  after  the  manner  of  a  collapse. 

As  he  fell,  Greg  darted  in  from  the  street  and 
fell  upon  the  big  fellow's  chest.  In  another  in- 
stant young  Prescott  was  a-top  of  the  fellow. 

"Keep  him  down,  boys!"  yelled  Coach  Mor- 
ton. 

Just  before  the  coach  sprinted  to  the  spot 
Dave  Darrin,  then  Tom  Reade,  and  then  Tom 
Purcell,  hurled  themselves  into  the  fray. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    129 

When  the  coach  arrived  he  could  not  find  a 
spot  on  red-face  at  which  to  take  hold. 

The  policeman,  limping  a  bit,  came  up  as  fast 
as  he  could. 

"Will  you  young  gentlemen  help  me  to  put 
these  handcuffs  on?"  asked  the  officer,  dangling 
a  pair  of  steel  bracelets. 

"Will  we?"  ejaculated  Dave.     "Whoop!" 

"Roll  the  fellow  over!"  called  Dick  Prescott. 

With  a  gleeful  shout  the  squad  members 
rolled  red-face  over,  dragging  his  powerful 
arms  behind  his  back.  There  was  a  scuffle,  but 
Coach  Morton  helped.  A  minute  more  and  the 
handcuffs  had  been  snapped  in  place. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  recent  kicker,  back  on  the 
field,  there  now  appeared  a  gleam  of  something 
very  much  akin  to  enthusiasm. 

"What  do  you  say,  now?"  asked  that  man's 
companion.  "Though,  of  course,  Prescott  and 
Holmes  knew  that  help  wasn't  far  off." 

"It  doesn't  make  any  difference,"  retorted 
the  recent  kicker.  * '  Either  boy  might  have  been 
killed  by  that  big  brute  before  the  help  could 
have  arrived." 

"Then  does  football  teach  nerve?" 

"It  certainly  must !"  agreed  the  recent  kicker. 


•Tht  High  School  Left  End. 


130    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 
CHAPTER  XII 

DICK,    LIKE    OESAB,   REFUSES   THE    CROWN 

A  FEW  days  later  the  members  of  the 
school  team,  and  the  substitutes,  had 
been  announced.  Then  the  men  who 
had  made  the  team  came  together  at  the  gym- 
nasium. 

Who  was  to  be  captain  of  the  eleven? 

For  once  there  seemed  to  be  a  good  deal  of 
hanging  back. 

If  there  were  any  members  of  the  team  who 
believed  themselves  supremely  fitted  to  lead,  at 
least  they  were  not  egotistical  enough  to  an- 
nounce themselves. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  whispering  during 
the  five  minutes  before  Mr.  Morton  called  them 
to  order.  Some  of  the  whisperers  left  one 
group  to  go  over  to  another. 

''Now,  then,  gentlemen!"  called  Coach  Mor- 
ton. "Order,  please!" 

Almost  at  once  the  murmuring  stopped. 

"Before  we  can  go  much  further,"  contin- 
ued the  coach,  "it  will  be  necessary  to  decide 
upon  a  captain.  I  don't  wish  to  have  the  whole 
voice  in  the  matter.  If  you  are  to  follow  your 
captain  through  thick  and  thin,  in  a  dozen  or 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    131 

more  pitched  football  battles,  it  is  well  that  you 
should  have  a  leader  who  will  possess  the  con- 
fidence of  all.  Now,  whom  do  you  propose  for 
the  post  of  captain?  Let  us  discuss  the  merits 
of  those  that  may  be  proposed." 

Just  for  an  instant  the  murmuring  broke  out 
afresh. 

Then  a  shout  went  up : 

"Powell!" 

But  that  young  man  shook  his  head. 

"Prescott!"  shouted  another. 

Dick,  too,  shook  his  head. 

"Purcell!    Purcell!" 

' '  Now,  listen  to  me  a  moment,  fellows ! ' '  called 
Purcell,  standing  very  straight  and  waving  his 
arms  for  silence.  "I  don't  want  to  be  captain. 
I  had  the  honor  of  leading  the  baseball  nine  last 
season." 

"No  matter!  You'll  make  a  good  football 
captain ! ' ' 

"Not  the  best  you  can  get,  by  any  means," 
insisted  Purcell.  "I  decline  the  honor  for  that 
reason,  and  also  because  I  don't  want  the  re- 
sponsibility of  leading  the  eleven." 

"Prescott!"  shouted  three  or  four  of  the 
squad  at  once. 

Purcell  nodded  his  head  encouragingly. 

"Yes;  Prescott,  by  all  means!  You  can't  do 
better." 


132    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Yes,  you  can!  And  you  fellows  know  it!" 
shouted  Dick. 

His  face  glowed  with  pleasure  and  pride,  but 
he  tried  to  show,  by  face,  voice  and  gesture, 
that  he  didn't  propose  to  take  the  tendered 
honor. 

"Prescott!  Prescott!"  came  the  insistent 
yell. 

Above  the  clamor  Coach  Morton  signaled  Dick 
to  come  forward  to  the  platform. 

"Won't  you  take  it,  Prescott?"  inquired  the 
coach. 

"I've  no  right  to,  sir." 

"Then  tell  the  team  why  you  think  so." 

As  soon  as  coach  had  secured  silence  Dick, 
with  a  short  laugh,  began: 

"Fellows,  I  don't  know  whether  you  mean  it 
all,  or  whether  you're  having  a  little  fun  with 
me.  But "  " 

"No,  no!  We  mean  it!  Prescott  for  cap- 
tain! No  other  fellow  has  done  as  much  for 
Gridley  High  School  football!'; 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  some  reasons,  fellows, 
why  I  don't  fit  the  position,"  Dick  went  on, 
speaking  easily  now  as  his  self-confidence  came 
to  him.  "In  the  first  place,  I'm  a  junior,  and 
this  is  my  first  year  at  football.  Now,  a  cap- 
tain should  be  a  whole  wagon-load  in  the  way 
of  judgment,  That  means  a  fellow  who  has 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    133 

played  in  a  previous  season.  For  that  reason, 
all  other  things  being  equal,  the  captain  should 
be  one  of  the  seniors  who  played  the  gridiron 
game  last  year.'* 

"You'll  do  for  us,  Prescott!"  came  the  in- 
sistent call. 

"For  another  thing,"  Dick  went  on  com- 
posedly, ' '  the  captain  should  be  a  man  who  plays 
center,  or  close  to  it.  Now,  I'm  not  heavy 
enough  for  anything  of  that  sort.  In  fact,  I 
understand  I  'm  cast  for  left  tackle  or  left  end — 
probably  the  latter.  So,  you  see,  I  wouldn't 
be  in  the  right  part  of  the  field.  I  don't  deny 
that  I'd  like  to  be  captain,  but  I'd  a  thousand 
times  rather  see  Gridley  win." 

' '  Then  who  can  lead  us  to  victory  T ' '  demanded 
Dave  Darrin  briskly. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Wadleigh?"  asked 
Dick  promptly.  "He's  believed  to  be  our  best 
man  for  center.  He  played  last  year ;  he  knows 
more  fine  points  of  the  game  than  any  of  us 
juniors  can.  And  he  has  the  judgment.  Be- 
sides, he's  a  senior,  and  it's  his  last  chance  to 
command  the  High  School  eleven." 

"If  Wadleigh'll  take  it,  I'm  for  him,"  spoke 
Dave  Darrin  promptly. 

Henry  Wadleigh,  or  "Hen,"  as  he  was  usu- 
ally called,  was  turning  all  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow.  Yet  he  looked  pleased  and  anxious. 


134    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

There  was  just  one  thing  against  Wadleigh, 
in  the  minds  of  Hudson  and  some  of  the  others. 
He  was  a  boy  of  poor  family.  He  belonged  to 
what  the  late  but  routed  "soreheads"  termed 
"the  muckers."  But  he  was  an  earnest,  honest 
fellow,  a  hard  player  and  loyal  to  the  death  to 
his  school. 

"Any  other  candidates?"  asked  Coach  Mor- 
ton. 

There  was  a  pause  of  indecision.  There  were 
a  few  other  fellows  who  wanted  to  captain  the 
team.  Why  didn't  some  of  their  friends  put 
them  in  nomination? 

Dick  &  Co.  formed  a  substantial  element  in  the 
team.  They  were  for  "Hen"  Wadleigh,  and 
now  Tom  Reade  spoke : 

"I  move  that  Wadleigh  be  considered  our 
choice  for  captain." 

"Second  the  motion,"  uttered  Dan  Dalzell, 
hastily. 

Coach  Morton  put  the  proposition,  which  was 
carried.  Wadleigh  was  chosen  captain,  subject 
to  the  approval  of  the  Athletics  Committee  of 
the  alumni,  which  would  talk  it  over  in  secret 
with  Coach  Morton. 

And  now  the  team  was  quickly  made  up. 
Wadleigh  was  to  play  center.  Dick  was  to  play 
left  end,  with  Dave  for  left  tackle.  Greg 
Holmes  went  over  to  right  tackle,  with  Hazel- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    135 

ton  right  guard.  Dan  Dalzell  was  slated  as  sub- 
stitute right  end,  while  Tom  Reade  was  a  "sub" 
left  tackle. 

Fred  Ripley  was  put  down  as  a  substitute  for 
left  end.  As  one  who  kept  in  such  close  train- 
ing as  did  Prescott  he  was  not  likely  to  miss 
many  of  the  big  games,  and  Fred's  chances  for 
playing  in  the  big  games  was  not  heavy.  Yet 
Ripley  was  satisfied.  Even  as  a  "sub,"  he  had 
"made"  the  High  School  eleven. 

"I  think,  gentlemen,"  declared  Mr.  Morton, 
in  dismissing  the  squad,  "that  we  have  as  good 
a  team  to  put  forward  this  year  as  Gridley  has 
ever  had.  The  only  disquieting  feature  of  the 
season  is  the  report,  coming  to  us,  that  many  of 
the  rival  schools  have,  this  year,  better  teams 
in  the  field  than  they  have  ever  had  before. 
So  we've  got  to  work — well  like  so  many  ani- 
mated furies.  Remember,  gentlemen,  'cold 
feet'  never  won  a  football  season." 

Bayliss  and  Dodge,  when  they  heard  the  news, 
were  much  disgusted.  They  had  hoped  that 
Dick  &  Co.  would  be  placed  mainly  among  the 
subs.  Instead,  Dick  and  three  of  his  cronies 
had  been  put  in  Gridley 's  first  fighting  line,  only 
two  of  the  redoubtable  six  being  on  the  sub  list. 

School  and  second  teams,  being  now  sharply 
defined,  fell  to  playing  against  each  other  as 
hard  and  as  cleverly  as  they  could. 


136    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Wadleigh 's  choice  as  captain  was  confirmed 
by  the  Athletics  Committee. 

"But  I'd  never  have  had  the  chance,  Pres- 
cott,  old  fellow,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you," 
"Hen"  protested  gratefully.  "Dick,  I  won't 
forget  your  great  help ! ' ' 

"I  didn't  do  anything  for  you,  Hen,"  Pres- 
cott  retorted,  with  one  of  his  dry  smiles 

"You  didn't?"  gasped  Wadleigh. 

"No,  sir!  I  did  it  for  the  school.  I  wanted 
to  see  our  team  have  the  best  possible  captain 
and  the  winning  eleven!" 

Bert  and  Bayliss  happened  to  be  passing  the 
gymnasium  when  they  heard  of  the  selection  of 
Wadleigh. 

"Bert,"  whispered  Bayliss,  "I  believe  you're 
at  least  half  a  man!" 

"What  are  you  driving  at!"  demanded  Dodge. 

"We  owe  Dick  Prescott  a  few.  If  you're 
with  me  we'll  see  if  his  season  on  the  gridiron 
can't  be  made  a  farce  and  a  fizzle." 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    137 
CHAPTER  XIII 

BERT   DODGE    "STARTS   SOMETHING" 

AS  always  happens  the  schedule  of  the 
fall's  games  was  changed  somewhat  at 
the  last  moment. 

In  the  first  change  there  was  a  decided  ad- 
vantage. Wrexham  withdrawing  its  challenge 
almost  at  the  last,  Coach  Morton  took  on  Wei- 
ton  High  School  for  the  first  game  of  the  sea- 
son. 

Now,  Welton  must  have  played  for  no  other 
reason  than  to  gratify  a  weak  form  of  vanity, 
for  there  were  few  High  School  teams  in  the 
state  that  had  cause  to  dread  Welton  High 
School. 

For  Gridley,  however,  the  game  served  a  use- 
ful purpose.  It  solidified  Captain  Wadleigh's 
team  into  actual  work.  The  score  was  32  to  0, 
in  favor  of  Gridley.  However,  as  Dick  phrased 
it,  the  practice  against  an  actual  adversary, 
for  the  first  time  in  the  season,  was  worth  at 
least  three  hundred  to  nothing. 

"But  don't  you  fellows  make  a  mistake," 
cautioned  Captain  Wadleigh.  "Don't  get  a 
notion  that  you've  nothing  bigger  than  Weltoa 
to  tackle  this  year.  Next  Saturday  you've  got 


138    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

to  go  up  against  Tottenville,  and  there's  an 
eleven  that  will  make  you  perspire." 

Coach  Morton  had  Tottenville  gauged  at  its 
right  value.  During  the  few  days  before  the 
game  he  kept  the  Gridley  boys  steadily  at  work. 
The  passing  and  the  signal  work,  in  particular, 
were  reviewed  most  thoroughly. 

"Remember,  the  pass  is  going  to  count  for 
a  lot,"  Mr.  Morton  warned  them.  "You  can't 
make  a  weight  fight  against  Tottenville,  for 
those  fellows  weigh  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
more,  to  the  team,  than  you  do.  They're 
savage,  swift,  clever  players,  too,  those  Totten- 
ville youths.  What  you  take  away  from  them 
you'll  have  to  win  by  strategy." 

So  the  Gridley  boys  were  drilled  again  and 
again  in  all  the  special  points  of  field  strategy 
that  Coach  Morton  knew  or  could  invent. 

Yet  one  of  the  best  things  that  Mr.  Morton 
knew,  and  one  that  always  characterized  Grid- 
ley,  was  the  matter  of  confidence. 

Captain  Wadleigh  's  young  men  were  made  to 
feel  that  they  were  going  to  win.  They  did 
not  underestimate  the  enemy,  but  they  were 
going  to  win.  That  was  well  understood  by 
them  all. 

Now,  in  the  games  of  sheer  strategy  much 
depends  upon  nimble  ends. 

Dick   Prescott,   in   particular,    was    coached 


much  in  private,  as  well  as  on  the  actual  grid- 
iron. 

' '  Keep  yourself  in  keen  good  shape,  Mr.  Pres- 
cott," Mr.  Morton  insisted.  "We  need  your 
help  in  scalping  Tottenville  next  Saturday." 

As  the  week  wore  along  Mr.  Morton  and 
Captain  Wadleigh  became  more  and  more 
pleased  with  themselves  and  with  their  asso- 
ciates. 

"I  don't  see  how  we  can  fail  to-morrow," 
said  Mr.  Morton,  quietly,  to  "Hen"  Wadleigh, 
just  after  the  School  and  the  second  teams  had 
been  dismissed. 

It  was  not  much  after  half -past  three.  Prac- 
tice had  been  brief,  in  order  that  none  of  the 
players  might  be  used  up. 

"Prescott,  in  especial,  is  showing  up  mag- 
nificently," replied  Wadleigh.  "He  and  Dar- 
rin  are  certainly  wonders  at  their  end  of  the 
line." 

"You  must  use  them  all  you  can  to-morrow, 
and  yet  don't  make  them  fight  the  whole  bat- 
tle," replied  Coach  Morton.  "Save  them  for 
the  biggest  emergencies." 

"I'll  be  careful,"  promised  Wadleigh. 

Dick  and  Dave  walked  back  into  the  city, 
instead  of  taking  a  car. 

"How  are  you  feeling,  Dick?"  asked  Dave. 

"As  smooth  as  silk,"  Prescott  replied. 


140    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"I  don't  believe  I've  ever  been  in  such  fine 
condition  before, ' '  replied  Dave. 

' '  That 's  mighty  good,  for  I  have  an  idea  that 
the  captain  means  to  use  us  all  he  can  to-mor- 
row." 

' '  Oh,  Tottenville  is  as  good  as  beaten,  then, ' ' 
laughed  Dave,  with  all  the  Gridley  confidence. 

"I'd  like  to  know  just  how  strong  Tottenville 
is  on  its  right  end  of  the  line, ' '  mused  Prescott. 

'  *  I  don 't  care  how  strong  they  are, ' '  retorted 
Darrin,  with  a  laugh.  "You  and  I  are  not 
going  to  use  strength;  we're  going  to  rely  upon 
brains — Coach  Morton's  brains,  though,  to  be 
sure. ' ' 

The  two  chums  separated  at  the  corner  of 
the  side  street  on  which  stood  the  Prescott  book- 
store and  home.  Dave  hurried  home  to  attend 
to  some  duties  that  he  knew  were  awaiting 
him. 

Dick,  whistling,  strolled  briskly  on.  He  saw 
Dodge  and  Bayliss  on  the  other  side  of  the 
street,  but  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  them 
until  they  crossed  just  before  Dick  had  reached 
his  own  door. 

"There's  the  mucker,"  muttered  Bayliss,  in 
a  tone  intentionally  loud  enough  for  the  young 
left  end  to  overhear. 

"I  won't  pay  any  attention  to  them,"  thought 
Dick,  with  an  amused  smile.  "I  can  easily  un- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    141 

derstand  what  they're  sore  about.  I'd  feel 
angry  myself  if  I  had  been  left  off  the  team." 

"Why  do  fellows  like  that  need  an  educa- 
tion?" demanded  Dodge,  in  a  slightly  louder 
tone,  as  the  pair  came  closer. 

Still  Dick  Prescott  paid  no  heed.  He  started 
up  the  steps,  fumbling  for  his  latch  key  as  he 
went. 

"You  faker!  You  mucker!"  hissed  Bayliss, 
now  speaking  directly  to  the  young  left  end. 

This  was  so  palpable  that  Dick  could  not  well 
ignore  it.  Dropping  the  key  back  into  his 
pocket,  he  turned  to  stare  at  the  two  "sore- 
head" chums. 

"Eh?"  he  asked,  with  a  quiet  laugh. 

"Yes ;  I  meant  you !"  hissed  Bayliss. 

"Oh,  well,"  grinned  Dick,  "your  opinions 
have  never  counted  for  much  in  the  community, 
have  they?" 

"Shut  up,  you  ignorant  hound!"  warned  Bay- 
liss belligerently. 

"Too  bad,"  retorted  Dick  tantalizingly. 
"Of  course,  I  understand  what  ails  you.  You 
were  left  off  the  High  School  team,  and  I  was 
not.  But  that  is  your  own  fault,  Bayliss.  You 
could  have  made  the  team  if  you  hadn't  been 
foolish. ' ' 

"Don't  insult  me  with  your  opinions,  fel- 
low!" cried  Bayliss,  growing  angrier  every  in- 


142    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

stant.    At  least,  lie  appeared  to  be  working  him- 
self up  into  a  rage. 

''Oh,  I  don't  care  anything  about  your  opin- 
ions, and  I  have  no  anxiety  to  spring  mine  on 
you,"  retorted  Dick,  in  an  indifferent  voice. 
Once  more  he  fumbled  for  his  latch  key. 

"You  haven't  any  business  talking  with  gen- 
tlemen, anyway,"  sneered  Bert  Dodge. 

Dick    flushed    slightly,    though    he    replied, 
coolly: 
.    "As  it  happens,  just  at  present  I  am  not!" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  flared  Bert. 

"Oh,  you  know,  you  don't  care  anything 
about  my  opinions,"  laughed  Dick.  "Let  us 
drop  the  whole  subject.  I  don't  care  particu- 
larly, anyway,  about  being  seen  talking  with 
you  two." 

"Oh,  you  don't?"  cried  Bayliss,  in  a  voice 
hoarse  with  rage. 

In  almost  the  same  breath  Bert  Dodge  hurled 
an  insult  so  pointed  and  so  offensive  that  Dick's 
ruddy  cheek  went  white  for  an  instant. 

Back  into  his  pocket  he  dropped  the  latch 
key,  then  stepped  swiftly  down  before  his  tor- 
mentor. 

"Dodge,"  he  cried  warningly,  "take  back 
the  remark  you  just  made.  Then,  after  that, 
you  can  take  your  offensive  presence  out  of  my 
sight! 


" 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    143 

"I'll  take  nothing  back!"  sneered  the  other 
boy. 

"Then  you'll  take  this!"  retorted  Dick,  very 
quietly,  in  a  cold,  low  voice. 

Prescott's  fist  flew  out.  It  was  not  a  hard 
blow,  but  it  landed  on  the  tip  of  Bert  Dodge's 
nose. 

"You  cur!"  cried  Dodge  chokingly.  "Wait 
until  I  get  my  coat  off." 

"No;  keep  it  on;  I'm  going  to  keep  mine  on," 
retorted  Prescott.  "Guard  yourself,  man!" 

"Jump  in,  Bayliss!  We'll  thump  his  head 
off!"  gasped  Dodge,  with  almost  a  sob  in  his 
voice,  he  was  so  angry. 

Bayliss  would  have  been  nothing  loath  to 
"jump  in."  But,  just  as  Dick  Prescott,  after 
calling ' '  guard, ' '  aimed  his  second  blow  at  Bert, 
Fred  Ripley,  Purcell  and  "Hen"  Wadleigh  all 
hurried  up  to  the  scene. 

For  Bayliss  to  be  caught  fighting  two-to-one 
would  have  resulted  in  a  quick  thrashing  for 
him.  So  Bayliss  stood  back. 

"Bad  blood,  is  there?"  asked  Wadleigh,  as 
the  new  arrivals  hurried  up. 

"Prescott,  after  insulting  Bert,  flew  at  him," 
retorted  Bayliss,  panting  some  with  the  effort 
at  lying. 

Dodge  was  now  standing  well  back.  He  had 
parried  three  of  Dick's  blows,  but  had  not  yet 


144    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

taken  the  offensive.  As  Dodge  was  a  heavier 
man,  and  not  badly  schooled  in  fistics,  Dick 
had  the  good  sense  to  go  at  this  fight  coolly, 
taking  time  to  exercise  his  judgment. 

"What's  it  all  about?"  demanded  "Wadleigh. 

Just  for  an  instant  Bayliss  felt  himself 
stumped.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  an  inspiration 
in  lying  came  to  him. 

"Prescott  got  ugly  because  the  Dodges  never 
paid  that  thousand-dollar  reward,"  declared 
Bayliss. 

Dick  heard,  and  with  his  eye  still  on  Dodge, 
shouted  out:  "That's  not  true,  Bayliss.  You 
know  you  are  not  telling  the  truth!" 

Bayliss  doubled  his  fists,  and  would  have 
struck  Prescott  down  from  behind,  but  AVad- 
leigh,  who  was  a  big  and  powerful  fellow, 
caught  Bayliss  by  his  left  arm,  jerking  him 
back. 

"Now,  just  wait  a  bit,  Bayliss,"  advised 
"Hen,"  moderately.  "From  what  I  know  of 
Prescott  I'm  not  afraid  but  that  he'll  give  you 
satisfaction  presently — if  you  want.it." 

"You  bet  he'll  have  to!"  hissed  Bayliss. 

"If  Prescott  loses  the  argument  he  has  on 
now,"  added  Purcell,  significantly,  "I  fancy  he 
has  friends  who  will  take  his  place  with  you, 
Bayliss." 

Then  all  turned  to  watch  the  fight,  which 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    145 

was  now  passing  the  stage  of  preliminary  cau- 
tion. 

Several  boys  and  men  had  run  down  from 
Main  Street.  Now,  more  than  a  score  of  spec- 
tators were  crowding  about. 

"Hurrah!"  piped  up  one  boy  from  the  Cen- 
tral Grammar  School.  "The  mucker  bantam 
against  the  'sorehead'  lightweight!" 

There  was  a  laugh,  but  Bert  Dodge  didn't 
join  in  it,  for,  after  receiving  two  glancing 
blows  on  the  chest,  he  now  had  his  right  eye 
closed  by  Dick's  hard  left. 

The  next  instant  the  bewildered  Dodge  re- 
ceived a  blow  that  sent  him  down  to  the  side- 
walk. 

"I  think  I've  paid  you  back,  now,"  Prescott 
remarked  quietly. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Prescott,  hearing  ,the 
noise  from  the  back  of  his  bookstore,  came  to 
the  door. 

"What  is  the  trouble,  Richard?"  inquired 
his  parent. 

Dick  stepped  over  to  his  father,  repeating, 
in  a  low  voice,  the  insult  that  Dodge  had  hurled 
at  him. 

"You  couldn't  have  done  anything  else,, 
then!"  declared  the  elder  Prescott,  fervently; 
anc  this  was  a  good  deal  for  Dick's  father, 
quiet,  scholarly  and  peace-loving,  to  say. 

JO—  The  High  School  Left  End. 


146    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Bert  and  Bayliss  walked  sullenly  away  amid 
the  jeers  of  the  onlookers.  Once  out  of  their 
sight,  Bert,  fairly  grinding  his  teeth,  said : 

"Bayliss,  I'll  have  my  revenge  yet  on  that 

mucker  Prescott "  and  then,  as  if  struck 

by  a  sudden  thought,  he  added  savagely : 

"The  Tottenville  game's  to-morrow — you 
know?" 

"Yes?"  said  Bayliss  inquiringly. 

"Well,  wait  till  to-morrow  afternoon,  and 
I'll  take  the  conceit  out  of  the  miserable  cur 
— just  you  wait." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  "STRATEGY"  OF  A  SCHOOL  TRAITOR 

«  |-^  AH !  rah !     Gri-i-idley!" 

r^  Again  and  again  the  whole  of  the 
rousing,  inspiring  High  School  yell 
smote  the  air. 

It  was  but  a  little  after  noon  on  Saturday. 

It  seemed  as  though  two  thirds  of  the  school, 
including  most  of  the  girls,  had  come  down  to 
the  railway  station  to  see  the  High  School 
eleven  off  on  its  way  to  Tottenville.  That  city 
was  some  thirty  miles  away  from  Gridley,  but 
there  was  a  noon  express  train  that  went 
through  in  forty  minutes. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    147 

Coach  Morton  and  Captain  Wadleigh  had 
rounded  up  the  whole  of  the  school  team.  All 
of  the  subs  were  there.  The  coach  and  mem- 
bers of  the  team  were  at  no  expense  in  the 
matter,  since  their  expenses  were  to  be  paid 
out  of  the  gate  receipts  of  the  home  eleven. 

To  many  of  the  boys  and  girls  of  Gridley 
High  School,  however,  the  affair  bore  a  differ- 
ent look.  The  round  trip  by  rail  would  cost 
each  of  these  more  than  a  dollar,  with  another 
fifty  cents  to  pay  for  a  seat  on  the  grand  stand 
at  Tottenville. 

Hence,  despite  the  fine  representation  of  High 
School  young  folks  at  the  railway  station,  not 
all  of  them  were  so  fortunate  as  to  look  forward 
to  going  to  the  game. 

In  addition  to  those  of  the  young  people  who 
could  go,  there  were  more  than  three  hundred 
grown-ups  who  had  bought  tickets.  The  rail- 
road company,  having  been  notified  by  the  local 
agent,  had  added  a  second  section  to  the  noon 
express. 

And  now  they  waited,  enthusiasm  findang 
vent  in  volleys  of  cheers  and  the  school  war- 
whoop. 

Dick  Prescott  and  his  chums  stood  at  one 
end  of  the  platform.  Nor  were  they  alone. 
Many  admirers  had  gathered  about  them. 
Laura  Bentley  and  Belle  Meade,  who  were  going 


148    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

4 

with  the  rest  to  Tottenville,  were  chatting  with 
Dick  and  Dave.  Each  of  the  girls  carried  the 
Gridley  High  School  colors  to  wave  during  the 
expected  triumphs  of  the  afternoon. 

"I'm  glad  you're  playing  to-day,"  Laura 
almost  whispered  to  young  Prescott. 

"Why?"  smiled  Dick. 

"Why,  I  believe  you're  one  of  those  fortunate 
people  who  always  carry  their  mascot  with 
them,"  rejoined  Miss  Bentley  earnestly.  "With 
you  there,  Dick,  I  feel  absolutely  certain 
that  even  Tottenville  must  go  down  in  the  dust. 
Gridley  will  bring  back  the  score — and  not  a 
tied  score,  either." 

"I  certainly  hope  I  am  as  big  a  mascot,  or 
possess  as  big  a  mascot  as  you  seem  to  believe," 
laughed  young  Prescott. 

"You  and  Dave  are  each  other's  mascots," 
declared  Belle  Meade,  with  a  laugh.  "I  re- 
member that  last  year  when  you  were  both  on 
the  baseball  nine  Gridley  never  lost  a  game  in 
which  you  and  Dave  both  played." 

"Nor  did  the  nine  lose  any  other  game,"  re- 
turned Dick,  "though  there  were  some  games 
when  Dave  and  I  weren't  on  the  batting  list. 
The  nine  didn't  lose  a  game  last  season,  Miss 
Belle,  and  had  only  one  tied  score." 

"Anyway,"  declared  Laura,  with  great  con- 
viction, "it  all  comes  back  to  this — that  Grid- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    149 

ley  can't  lose  to-day  because  both  Prescott  and 
Darrin  are  to  play." 

"And  I  believe,  young  ladies,  that  you're 
both  much  nearer  to  the  truth  than  you  have 
any  idea  of.  In  to-day's  game  a  great  deal 
does  depend  on  Prescott  and  Darrin." 

It  was  Captain  "Hen"  Wadleigh,  who,  pass- 
ing to  the  rear  of  the  group,  had  overheard 
Laura's  remark,  and  had  made  this  addition 
to  her  prophecies. 

"Here  comes  the  train!"  yelled  one  youth, 
who  was  fortunate  enough  to  have  a  ticket  for 
the  day. 

Soon  after  the  sound  of  the  whistle  had  been 
heard  the  express  rolled  in.  But  this  was  the 
first  section  of  the  regular  train.  By  some  ef- 
fort the  football  crowd  was  kept  off  the  train. 
Soon  after  the  second  section  of  the  train  was 
sighted  as  it  rolled  toward  the  station. 

"Team  assemble!"  roared  Captain  "Wad- 
leigh. 

There  was  a  rush  of  husky,  mop-headed 
youths  in  his  direction. 

Just  then  a  hand  rested  on  Dick's  arm. 

"Let  me  speak  with  you,  just  a  moment, 
Prescott." 

As  Dick  turned  he  found  himself  looking  into 
the  face  of  Hemingway,  plain  clothes  man  to- 
Chief  Coy  of  the  police  department. 


150    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"I'm  awful  sorry,  lad,  but  -  "  began  Hem- 
ingway slowly,  in  a  tone  of  the  most  genuine 
regret. 

Dick's  face  blanched.  He  scented  bad  news 
instantly,  though  he  could  not  imagine  what 
it  was. 

"Anyone  sick  —  any  accident  at  home?"  asked 
the  young  left  end. 

"Team  aboard,  first  day  coach  behind  the 
smoker!"  roared  Captain  Wadleigh,  and  the 
fellows  made  a  rush. 

"The  truth  is,"  confessed  Hemingway,  "I've 
a  war  -  " 

Dick  saw  light  in  an  instant. 

"Oh,  that  wretched  Dodge?     He  has— 

'  '  Sworn  out  a  warrant  for  your  arrest,  '  '  nod- 
ded Hemingway. 

Laura  and  Belle  did  not  hear  or  see  this. 
They  were  hurrying  rearward  along  the  train. 

Few  of  the  football  fellows  saw  the  trouble, 
for  they  were  busy  boarding  the  car  named  by 
Captain  Wadleigh. 

Dave  Darrin  was  the  only  one  to  pay  urgent 
heed. 

"See  here,  Hemingway,"  began  Dave,  "Dick 
will  come  back  —  you  know  that.  He's  des- 
perately needed  to-day.  Won't  it  do  just  as 


No,"  broke  in  the  plain-clothes  man,  re- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    151 

luctantly.  "  I  'd  have  done  that  if  possible,  but 
Dodge 's  father  put  the  warrant  in  my  hand  and 
insisted. ' ' 

"He?"  echoed  Darrin,  bitterly.  "The  very 
man  that  Dick  and  I  rescued  when  he  was  out 
of  his  head  and  in  the  clutches  of  scoundrels? 
He?  Oh,  this  is  infamous — or  crazy!" 

"I  know  it  is,"  nodded  Officer  Hemingway 
sympathetically.  "But  what  am  I  to  do 
when " 

"Hustle  aboard,  there,  you  Prescott  and  Dar- 
rin!" roared  Captain  Wadleigh 's  voice  from  an 
open  window. 

"You  hear,  Hemingway?"  urged  Dave. 

"Yes;  but  I  can't  help  it,"  sighed  the  police- 
man. 

"We're  not  going — can't "  fluttered  Dar- 
rin. His  voice  was  low,  but  it  reached  the  cap- 
tain of  the  eleven. 

"What's  that?"  roared  Wadleigh,  making  a 
dash  for  the  door  of  the  car.  "Keep  your  seats, 
you  other  fellows.  I " 

"You  go,  Dave — you  must!"  commanded 
Dick.  "Hurry!  The  train  is  starting.  Hustle! 
Play  for  both  of  us." 

Dick  gave  his  chum  a  push  that  was  com- 
pelling. Dave  yielded,  boarding  the  step  as  the 
end  of  the  car  went  by  him. 

"What "  began  Wadleigh,  breathlessly. 


152    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"I'll  explain,"  panted  Darrin  angrily. 

The  train  was  now  in  full  motion. 

"Hey,  dere!  Stop  dot  train,  quick!  Me!  I 
am  not  off  board,  yet!" 

It  was  Herr  Schimmelpodt,  hot,  perspiring 
and  gasping,  who  now  raced  upon  the  platform. 
For  one  of  his  weight,  combined  with  his  lack 
of  nimbleness,  it  was  hazardous  to  attempt  to 
board  the  moving  train. 

Yet  Herr  Schimmelpodt  made  a  wild  dash 
for  the  train.  He  would  have  been  mangled  or 
killed,  had  not  Officer  Hemingway  caught  the 
anxious  German  and  pulled  him  back. 

"Hey,  you!  Vot  for  you  do  dot!"  screamed 
Herr  Schimmelpodt.  "Hey?  Answer  me  dot 
vun,  dumm-gesicht ! "  (Foolish-faced  one.) 

"I  did  it  to  save  you  from  going  under  the 
wheels, ' '  retorted  Officer  Hemingway  dryly. 

"Und  now  I  don't  go  me  by  dot  game  to- 
day!" groaned  Herr  Schimmelpodt.  "Me!  I 
dream  apout  dot  game  all  der  veek,  und  now  I 
don 't  see  me  by  it. ' ' 

"But,  man " 

"Hal's  maul."  (Literally,  "Shut  your 
mouth!") 

"Me!  Und  I  vouldn't  lose  dot  game  for  em 
dollar!"  glared  the  prosperous  German. 

He  stared  after  the  departed  second  section, 
from  the  open  windows  of  which  fluttered  or 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    153 

wildly  waved  many  a  banner;  for  few  of  the 
Gridley  crowd  had  yet  discovered  that  one  of 
the  most  prized  members  of  the  team  had  been 
left  behind. 

Herr  Schimmelpodt  it  was,  who,  a  wealthy  re- 
tired contractor,  had  found  his  second  youth  in 
his  enthusiasm  over  the  High  School  baseball 
nine  the  season  before. 

Though  thrifty  enough  in  most  matters,  the 
German  had  become  a  liberal  contributor  to  the 
High  School  athletic  fund,  to  the  great  dismay 
of  his  good  wife,  who  feared  that  his  new  out- 
door fads  would  yet  land  them  both  in  the  poor- 
house. 

"Vot  you  doing  here,  Bresgott?"  demanded 
Herr  Schimmelpodt,  turning  upon  the  young 
prisoner.  "Vy  you  ain't  by  dot  elefen?  How 
dey  going  to  vin  bis  you  are  behint  left?" 

"You  have  company  in  your  misery,  sir," 
said  Officer  Hemingway.  "I'm  awfully  sorry 
to  say  that  Dick  Prescott  can't  see  to-day's 
game,  either.  It 's  a  whopping  shame,  but  some- 
times the  law  is  powerless  to  do  right." 

"What  foolishness  are  you  talking  mit,  vonce 
alretty?"  demanded  Herr  Schimmelpodt,  look- 
ing bewildered. 

"I've  just  been  arrested,  on  a  false  charge  of 
assault,"  Dick  stated  quietly. 

"'You?     Und  you  don't  blay  by  der  game 


154    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

yet?  By  der  beard  of  Charlemagne,"  howled 
Herr  Schimmelpodt  excitedly,  "ve  see  apoud 
dot!" 

Digging  down  into  a  trouser's  pocket  this 
enthusiastic  old  High  School  "rooter"  brought 
up  a  roll  of  bills  almost  as  large  around  as  a 
loaf  of  bread. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  "FACER"  TOR  THE  PLOTTER 

"TT  T  HAT  are  you  going  to  do  with  all  that 
y  y  wallpaper,  Mr.  Schimmelpodt?" 
laughed  Officer  Hemingway. 

"Me?  I  gif  bail,  don't  I?"  demanded  the 
German. 

"Well,  you  can't  do  it  here.  That's  a  mat- 
ter to  be  fixed  in  court." 

"Und  dot  train  going  by  a  mile  a  minute,  I 
bet  you ! ' '  gasped  the  German  ruefully. 

"Come  along,  lad,"  urged  Hemingway 
gently.  "On  Saturdays  court  opens  at  one 
o'clock.  We'll  get  right  up  there  and  see  this 
matter  through." 

"I  bet  you  ve  see  dis  matter  through — right 
through  someone,  ain't  it?"  exploded  Herr 
Schimmelpodt,  ranging  himself  on  the  other 
side  of  the  young  prisoner. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    155 

As  they  went  along  the  German,  using  all 
his  native  and  acquired  shrewdness,  quickly  got 
at  the  bottom  of  the  matter. 

In  the  meantime  indignant  Dave  Darrin  was 
telling  all  he  knew  about  the  business  to  an 
indignant  lot  of  High  School  youngsters  in  the 
day  coach. 

"You  keep  your  upper  eyebrow  stiff,  Bres- 
gott,"  urged  the  warm-hearted  German.  "I 
see  you  through  by  dis  business.  Don't  you 
worry. ' ' 

" Thank  you,  but  it  isn't  the  arrest  that  is 
really  bothering  me, ' '  Prescott  answered.  "  It 's 
the  fact  that  I'm  fooled  out  of  playing  this 
afternoon.  And  Darrin  and  I  had  been  trained 
for  so  many  special  tricks  for  to-day's  game 
that  I'm  almost  afraid  my  absence  will  make  a 
difference  in  the  score.  But,  Herr  Schimmel- 
podt,  if  you  want  to  help  me,  do  you  really  mind 
dropping  in  at  the  store  and  telling  my  father, 
so  that  he  can  come  down  to  the  court  room? 
Yet  please  be  careful  not  to  scare  Dad.  He  has 
a  horror  of  courts  and  criminal  law." 

"I  bet  you  I  do  der  chob — slick,"  promised 
the  German,  and  hurried  away. 

"There  goes  a  man  that's  all  right,  from  his 
feet  up  to  the  top  of  his  head,"  declared  Officer 
Hemingway. 

On  the  streets  Dick's  appearance  with  Hem- 


156    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

ingway  attracted  little  notice.  Folks  were  used 
to  seeing  the  High  School  reporter  of  "The 
Blade"  walking  with  this  policeman-detective. 
The  few  who  really  did  notice  merely  won- 
dered why  Dick  Prescott  was  not  on  his  way  t© 
the  Tottenville  gridiron  to-day. 

When  Hemingway  and  his  prisoner  reached 
the  court  room  there  were  only  two  or  three 
loungers  there,  for  it  was  still  some  minutes  be- 
fore the  time  for  the  assembling  of  the  court. 

Presently  Bert  Dodge  and  his  friend,  Bayliss, 
dropped  in.  They  glanced  at  the  young  left 
end  with  no  attempt  to  conceal  their  feelings 
of  triumph.  Bert  looked  much  the  worse  for 
wear. 

Dick  returned  their  looks  coolly,  but  without 
defiance.  He  was  angry  only  that  he  should 
have  been  cheated  of  his  right  to  play  in  that 
big  game. 

Then  in  came  the  elder  Dodge,  only  just  back 
from  a  sanitarium.  Beside  him  walked  Lawyer 
Ripley,  who  immediately  came  over  to  Dick, 
just  before  Herr  Schimelpodt  and  Dick's  father 
entered  the  room  hastily. 

"Prescott,"  began  the  old  lawyer,  sitting 
down  beside  the  young  player,  and  speaking  in 
a  low  tone,  "I've  just  been  called  into  this  mat- 
ter, as  I'm  the  Dodge  family  lawyer.  Had  my 
advice  been  asked  I  would  have  demanded  much 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    157 

more  investigation.  From  what  knowledge  I 
hare  of  you,  I  don't  regard  you  as  one  who  is 
likely  to  commit  an  unprovoked  assault.  Have 
you  any  objection  to  stating  your  side  of  the 
case — bearing  in  mind,  of  course,  the  fact  that 
I'm  the  Dodge  lawyer." 

"Not  the  least  in  the  world,"  Dick  replied 
promptly. 

It  was  just  at  this  moment  that  Herr  Schim- 
melpodt  and  the  elder  Prescott  came  hastening 
into  the  room. 

Bert  Dodge  and  Bayliss  looked  over  uneasily, 
several  times,  to  where  Lawyer  Eipley  and  the 
young  prisoner  sat.  Dick's  father  stood  by  in 
silence.  He  already  knew  his  son's  version  of 
the  affair  of  the  day  before.  Herr  Schimmel- 
podt  didn't  say  anything,  but  sat  down,  breath- 
ing heavily. 

Then  the  clerk  of  the  court  and  two  court 
officers  came  in.  Justice  Vesey  entered  soon 
after  and  took  his  seat  on  the  bench. 

"The  case  of  Dodge  versus  Prescott — I  mean, 
the  people  against  Prescott,  your  honor,  is  the 
only  thing  on  the  docket  this  afternoon,"  ex- 
plained the  clerk. 

"Is  the  case  ready?"  inquired  the  justice 
mildly. 

"I  will  ask  just  a  moment's  delay,  your, 
Honor,"  announced  Lawyer  Bipley,  rising.  "I 


158    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

wish  a  moment's  conference  with  my  prin- 
cipals. " 

The  court  nodding,  Mr.  Eipley  crossed  the 
room,  engaging  in  earnest  whispered  conversa- 
tion with  the  Dodges,  father  and  son. 

While  this  was  going  on  a  telegraph  messen- 
ger boy  entered.  Espying  Dick,  he  went  over 
and  handed  him  a  yellow  envelope.  Dick  tore 
it  open.  It  was  a  telegram  sent  by  Dave  Dar- 
rin,  on  the  way  to  Tottenville,  and  read: 

1  'Fred  Ripley  said  he  heard  insult  offered 
you  by  Dodge  yesterday.  Get  case  adjourned  to 
Monday  and  Ripley  will  testify  in  your  behalf. ' ' 

Smiling,  Dick  passed  the  message  to  his 
father.  Mr.  Prescott,  after  scanning  the  tele- 
gram, rose  gravely,  crossed  the  room  and  handed 
the  slip  of  paper  to  Lawyer  Ripley. 

"If  the  court  please,  we  are  now  ready  with 
this  case,"  announced  Lawyer  Ripley. 

"Proceed,  counselor.  Mr.  Clerk,  you  will 
swear  such  witnesses  as  are  to  be  called." 

"If  the  court  please,"  hastily  interjected  Mr. 
Ripley.  "I  don't  believe  it  is  going  to  be  nec- 
essary to  call  any  witnesses.  With  the  court's 
permission  I  will  first  make  a  few  explanations." 

"This  case,  your  Honor,  is  one  in  which  Al- 
bert Dodge,  a  minor,  with  the  consent  of  his 
father,  has  preferred  a  charge  of  aggravated 
assault  against  Richard  Prescott,  a  minor. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    159 

"That  there  was  a  fight,  and  that  said  Pres- 
cott  did  vigorously  assault  young  Dodge,  there 
is  no  doubt.  Prescott  himself  does  not  deny  it. 
But  I  am  satisfied,  if  it  please  the  court,  that 
the  case  is  one  in  which,  on  the  evidence,  young 
Prescott  is  bound  to  be  discharged.  I  am  satis- 
fied that  young  Prescott  had  abundant  provoca- 
tion for  the  assault  he  committed.  Further,  we 
have  received  apparently  satisfactory  assurance 
by  wire  that  a  witness  is  prepared  to  testify  to 
conduct  and  speech,  on  the  part  of  young  Dodge, 
that  would  justify  an  assault,  or,  as  the  boys 
call  it,  'a  fight.'  Now,  your  Honor,  if  the  pris- 
oner, Prescott,  through  his  father,  will  agree  to 
hold  the  elder  Dodge  blameless  in  the  matter  of 
civil  damages  on  account  of  this  arrest,  I  shall 
move  to  have  the  case  dismissed." 

"Will  you  so  agree,  Mr.  Prescott?"  inquired 
the  court,  glancing  at  Dick's  father. 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  elder  Prescott,  "though  I 
must  offer  my  opinion  that  this  arrest  has  been 
a  shameful  outrage." 

"My  client,  the  elder  Dodge "  began 

Lawyer  Ripley,  in  a  low  voice. 

'  *  Case  dismissed, ' '  broke  in  Justice  Vesey 
briskly,  and  Mr.  Eipley  did  not  finish  his  re- 
mark. 

Bowing  to  the  court,  Dick  rose,  picked  up 
his  hat  and  started  out  with  his  father. 


160    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

But  once  outside  Herr  Schimmelpodt  caught 
them  both  by  the  arm. 

"Vait!"  he  commanded.  "I  much  vant  to 
hear  me  vot  Lawyer  Ripley  haf  to  say  to  dot 
young  scallavag." 

"Are  you  talking  about  me?'*  demanded  Bert 
Dodge,  flushingly  hotly,  for,  just  at  that  moment, 
he  turned  out  of  the  court  room  into  the  corri- 
dor. 

"Maybe,"  assented  Herr  Schimmelpodt. 

"Then  stuff  a  sausage  in  your  Dutch  mouth, 
and  be  quiet,"  retorted  Bert  impudently. 

"Young  man,  if  your  father  haf  not  enough 
gontrol  ofer  you,  den  I  vill  offer  him  dot  I  teack 
you  manners  by  a  goot  spanking, ' '  replied  Herr 
Schimmelpodt  stiffly. 

"Bert,  you  will  be  silent  before  your  elders," 
ordered  Mr.  Dodge.  "You  have  come  close 
enough  to  getting  me  into  trouble  to-day.  Had 
I  understood  the  whole  story  of  the  fight,  as  I  do 
now,  I  never  would  have  backed  your  applica- 
tion for  a  warrant.  If  you  meet  with  any  re- 
buke from  young  Prescott's  friends,  take  it  in 
meekness,  for  you  richly  deserve  censure." 

"As  you  are  only  a  boy,  Bert,  and  I  am  your 
father's  lawyer,"  broke  in  Mr.  Bipley,  evea 
more  sternly,  "I  have  used  whatever  powers  of 
persuasion  I  may  have  to  have  this  case  ended 
mildly.  The  Prescotts  might  have  sued  your 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    161 

father  for  a  round  sum  in  damages  for  false  ar- 
rest. And,  if  you  and  Bayliss  had  sworn 
falsely  as  to  the  nature  and  causes  of  the  fight, 
you  might  both  have  been  sent  away  to  the  re- 
formatory on  charges  of  perjury.  Remember 
that  the  law  against  false  swearing  applies  to 
boys  as  much  as  it  does  to  men.  And  now,  good 
day,  Mr.  Dodge.  I  trust  you  will  be  able  to  con- 
vince your  son  of  his  wrongdoing." 

However,  the  elder  Dodge,  despite  his  momen- 
tary sternness,  was  not  a  parent  who  exercised 
much  influence  over  his  son.  Half  an  hour  later 
Bert  had  out  the  family  runabout,  making  fast 
time  toward  Tottenville. 

"Bert,"  said  Bayliss,  rather  soberly,  "I'm  in- 
clined to  think  that  Lawyer  Ripley  was  good 
enough  to  get  us  out  of  a  fearful  scrape." 

"That's  what  he's  paid  for,"  sniffed  Bert. 
"He's  my  father's  lawyer." 

"Then  I'm  glad  your  father  has  a  good  law- 
yer. Whew !  It  makes  me  sick  when  I  stop  to 
think  that  we  might  have  been  trapped  into  giv- 
ing— er — prejudiced  testimony,  and  that  then 
we  might  have  been  shipped  off  to  the  reforma- 
tory until  we  're  of  age ! ' ' 

"Ain't  Fred  Ripley  the  sneak,  though!" 
ejaculated  Bert  angrily.  "The  idea  of  him 
standing  ready  to  'queer'  a  case  against  his 
father 's  clients !  I  thought  Fred  had  more  class 

II—  The  Hifk  School  Ltfl  End, 


162    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

and  caste  than  to  go  against  his  own  crowd  for 
the  sake  of  a  mere  mucker!" 

"Well,  the  thing  turned  out  all  right,  any- 
way," muttered  Bayliss.  "We're  off  in  time  to 
see  the  game." 

"And  that's  more  than  Dick  Prescott  will  do 
to-day,"  laughed  Bert  sullenly.  "He  can't 
catch  a  train  to  Tottenville,  now,  in  time  for  the 
game. ' ' 

"If  Gridley  loses  the  game  to-day,"  hinted 
Bayliss,  ' '  I  suppose  the  fellows  will  all  feel  that 
it  was  because  Prescott  didn't  go  along.  Then 
they'll  all  feel  like  roasting  us." 

"Oh,  bother  what  the  High  School  ninnies 
think — or  say,"  grunted  Bert. 

.Fifteen  minutes  later  there  was  a  loud  pop- 
ping sound.  Then  a  tire  flattened  out,  so  that 
it  became  necessary  for  the  young  men  to  get 
out  and  busy  themselves  with  putting  on  another 
tire.  At  this  task  they  did  not  succeed  very  well 
until,  finally,  another  automobilist  came  along 
and  gave  the  boys  effective  help. 

So  it  was  that,  by  the  time  the  pair  reached 
Tottenville,  housed  the  car  at  a  garage,  and 
reached  Tottenville 's  High  School  athletic  field, 
the  game  was  well  on. 

As  the  two  young  men  reached  the  grand  stand 
the  Gridley  contingent  were  on  their  feet, 
breathless. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    163 

Gridley  had  the  ball  down  to  the  ten-yard  line 
from  Tottenville 's  goal.  Captain  Wadleigh's 
signals  were  ringing  out,  crisp  and  clear.  A 
whistle  sounded. 

Then  the  ball  was  put  swiftly  into  play.  Tot- 
tenville put  up  a  sturdy  resistance  against 
Gridley 's  left  end. 

Dave  Darrin  had  the  ball,  and  appeared  to  be 
trying  to  break  through  the  Tottenville  line,  well 
backed  by  Gridley 's  interference. 

Of  a  sudden  there  was  a  subtle,  swift  pass, 
and  Gridley 's  left  end  darted  along,  almost 
parallel  with  the  ten-yard  line,  then  made  a  dash- 
ing cut  around  and  past  Tottenville. 

Two  of  the  home  team  tackled  that  left  end, 
but  he  shook  them  off.  In  another  instant 

"Touchdown!"  yelled  the  frantic  Gridley 
boosters. 

"Touchdown!  Oh,  you  Darrin!  Oh,  you 
Prescott!" 

Bert  Dodge  rubbed  his  eyes. 

"Prescott?"  he  muttered. 

"Blazes,  but  that  is  Prescott!"  faltered  Bay- 
liss,  with  a  sickly  grin. 

"How  did  he  ever  get  over  here  in  time  to 
play?"  demanded  Bert  Dodge. 

Herr  Schimmelpodt  could  have  told.  The 
stout,  sport-loving  old  contractor  had  parted 
with  some  of  his  greenbacks  to  a  chauffeur  who 


164    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

had  put  Dick  and  himself  over  the  long  road  to 
Tottenville.  And  the  young  left  end  was  play- 
ing, to-day,  in  his  finest  form! 


CHAPTER   XVI 


IT  was  Dave  Darrin  who  kicked  the  goal. 
This  ran  the  score  up  to  six  to  nothing  in 
Gridley's  favor. 

It  was  the  first  scoring  in  a  game  that  had 
begun  by  looking  all  bad  for  Gridley. 

The  Tottenville  High  School  boys  were  big- 
ger than  the  visitors  and  fully  as  speedy. 

In  fact,  even  now,  to  impartial  observers,  it 
looked  as  though  these  six  points  on  the  score 
had  been  won  by  what  was  little  better  than  a 
fluke. 

"Gridley  can't  keep  this  up,"  remarked  the 
Tottenville  boosters  confidently.  "They'll  lose 
their  wind  and  nerve  against  our  fine  line  before 
the  game  is  much  older." 

The  first  half  went  out  with  score  unchanged. 
But  Captain  "VVadleigh  did  heave  a  sigh  of  re- 
lief when  the  time  keeper  cut  in  on  that  first 
half. 

"Fellows,  look  out  for  the  fine  points,"  he 
warned  his  fellows,  after  they  had  trotted  into 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    165 

quarters.  "It'll  be  craft,  not  strong  rush,  that 
wins  for  us  to-day,  if  anything  does." 

"  Prescott 's  here.  He  and  Darrin  can  put 
anything  over  in  the  line  of  craft, ' '  laughed  Fred 
Ripley. 

Ripley  was  in  togs,  but  was  not  playing.  He 
was  on  the  sub  line,  to-day,  awaiting  a  call  in 
case  any  player  of  his  team  became  disabled. 

" Darrin  and  Prescott  are  all  right,"  nodded 
Wadleigh  gruffly.  "But  they  have  endurance 
limits,  like  other  human  beings.  Don't  rely  too 
much  upon  any  two  or  three  men,  fellows. 
Now,  in  the  second  half" — here  Wadleigh  low- 
ered his  voice — "I'm  going  to  spare  Prescott 
and  Darrin  all  I  can.  So  you  other  fellows  look 
out  for  hard  work." 

Dick's  eyes  were  still  flashing.  This  was  not 
from  the  fever  of  the  game,  but  from  the  recol- 
lection of  how  narrowly  he  had  escaped  being 
tricked  out  of  this  chance  to  play  to-day. 

On  his  arrival,  and  while  dressing  before  the 
game,  Prescott  had  related  to  the  team  the  mean 
trick  that  had  been  played  upon  him.  He  had 
also  told  how  the  case  came  out  in  court. 

"Dodge  and  Bayliss  are  traitors  to  the 
school!"  cried  Purcell  indignantly.  "We'll 
have  to  give  'em  the  silence!" 

"Hear!    Hear!"  cried  several  of  the  fellows. 

This,  in  other  words,  meant  that  Dodge  and 


166    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Bayliss  would  be  "sent  to  Coventry" — shut  off 
from  all  social  contact  with  the  school  body  dur- 
ing the  remainder  of  the  school  year. 

"I  think  I'm  with  you,  fellows,"  nodded  Cap- 
tain Wadleigh.  "However,  remember  that  the 
football  team  can't  settle  all  school  questions. 
We'll  take  this  up  when  we  get  back  to  Grid- 
ley." 

In  the  second  half  it  was  not  long  before  Grid- 
ley  did  go  stale  and  tired.  But  so,  too,  to  the 
disgust  of  home  boosters,  did  the  Tottenville 
High  School  boys. 

The  game  became  a  sheer  test  of  endurance. 
Gridley,  under  Wadleigh,  played  with  a  dogged- 
ness  that  made  Tottenville  put  forth  all  its 
strength. 

"Brace  up,  you  lobsters,"  growled  Captain 
Grant  of  the  home  team,  after  the  whistle  had 
sounded  on  Tottenville 's  "down"  with  the  ball. 
"Buck  the  simple  Gridley  youths.  Wade 
through  their  line  as  if  you  fellows  were  going 
to  dinner  half  an  hour  late.  Don't  let  them 
wind  you,  or  stop  you ! ' ' 

Tottenville  threw  all  its  force  into  the  follow- 
ing plays.  Surely,  doggedly,  the  home  boys 
forced  the  ball  down  the  gridiron.  At  last  Grid- 
ley  was  forced  to  make  a  safety,  thus  scoring 
two  points  for  their  opponents. 

"Don't  let  that  happen  again,  fellows,"  urged 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    167 

Wadleigh  anxiously.  "  Fight  for  time,  but 
don't  throw  any  two-spots  away." 

"Rally,  men!  Brace!  Crush  'em!"  ordered 
Captain  Grant.  "Seven  minutes  left!  We've 
got  to  score." 

These  muttered  orders  caused  a  grim  smile 
among  the  Tottenville  High  School  boys,  for  the 
only  way  to  tie  the  score  would  be  to  force  Grid- 
ley  to  make  two  more  safeties — a  hard  thing  to 
do  against  a  crack  eleven  in  seven  minutes! 

Dick  and  Dave  Darrin  were  called  into  play  as 
soon  as  the  visitors  had  the  ball  in  their  own 
hands  once  more. 

The  "trick"  signal  sounded  from  quarter- 
back's lips. 

' '  One — three — seven — eleven ! ' ' 

There  was  instant,  seemingly  sly  activity  on 
the  part  of  Gridley's  right  wing.  Those  from 
Gridley  who  stood  on  the  grand  stand  thought 
that  the  coming  play  looked  bad  in  advance. 

"Why  don't  they  use  Prescott  again?"  asked 
some  one  anxiously.  "He  has  been  having  a 
vacation/ ' ' 

Then  followed  the  snap-back.  Quarter-back 
started  with  the  ball,  and  it  looked  as  though  he 
would  dash  for  the  right. 

The  quarter  took  one  step,  then  wheeled  like 
lightning,  and  rushed  after  Darrin,  who  already 
was  in  swift  motion. 


168    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Gridley's  whole  line  switched  for  the  left. 

Tottenville  found  out  the  trick  after  the  heavi- 
est fellows  in  its  line  had  started  for  Gridley's 
right. 

"Oh,  Darrin — sprint!     Oh,  you  Prescott!" 

Truly  the  boosters  were  howling  themselves 
hoarse. 

There  was  frenzy  on  in  an  instant. 

To  the  knowing  among  the  watchers  there  was 
no  chance  for  Gridley  to  rush  down  on  the  ene- 
my 's  goal  line,  but  every  yard — every  foot,  now 
— carried  the  pigskin  just  so  much  further  from 
Gridley's  goal  line. 

Gridley's  interference  rushed  in  solidly  about 
Dave  Darrin,  as  though  to  boost  him  through. 

Dick  seemed  bent  on  beating  down  some  of  the 
formation  surging  against  the  visitors. 

Just  as  the  bunch  "clumped"  Dave  Darrin 
went  down.  There  was  a  surge  over  him,  and 
then  Dick  Prescott  was  seen  racing  as  though 
for  life. 

There  was  no  opposition  left — only  Totten- 
ville's  quarter-back  and  the  fullback. 

Tottenville  rs  quarter  got  after  fleeting  Dick 
too  late,  for  the  whole  movement  had  been  one 
of  startling  trickery. 

One  Tottenville  halfback  was  too  far  away  to 
make  an  obstructing  dash  in  time. 

In  dodging  the  other  halfback  Dick  dashed 


Dick  Carries  the  Ball  Ov«r  the  Goal  LIB*. 
1M 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    171 

on  as  though  not  seeing  the  fellow.  This,  how- 
ever, was  all  trick.  Just  in  the  nick  of  time 
Prescott,  still  holding  the  ball,  ducked  and 
dodged  far  to  the  left,  getting  around  his 
man. 

Tottenville 's  fullback  was  now  the  sole  hope 
of  the  home  team. 

Prescott,  however,  dodged  that  heavy  fellow, 
also. 

From  the  Gridley  boosters  on  the  grand  stand 
went  up  a  medley  of  yells  that  dinned  in  the 
young  left  end's  ears.  Panting,  all  but  faint- 
ing, Dick  was  over  the  enemy's  goal  line  and  he 
had  the  ball  down. 

When  Dave  had  emerged  from  that  fruitless 
clumping  he  had  a  broad  grin  on  his  face.  He 
saw  that  while  Dick  was  not  yet  over  the  goal 
line,  only  the  fullback  was  in  the  way  and  the 
fullback  was  no  match  for  Dick  in  the  matter  of 
speed. 

Then  the  yells  told  the  rest.  Back  came  the 
ball.  Captain  Wadleigh  nodded  to  Dave  to  kick 
the  goal. 

Captain  Grant  looked  utterly  wild.  He  had 
assured  everyone  in  Tottenville  who  had  asked 
him  that  the  Gridley  "come  ons"  would  be  eaten 
alive.  And  here ! 

Dave  made  the  kick.  After  going  down  in 
that  bunch  Darrin  was  not  at  his  best.  Body 


172    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

and  nerves  were  tired.  He  failed  to  kick  the 
goal. 

Hardly,  however,  had  the  two  teams  been 
started  in  a  new  line-up  when  the  time  keeper 
did  his  trick.  The  game  was  over. 

That  last  kick  had  failed,  but  who  cared? 
The  score  was  eleven  to  two ! 

Ere  the  players  could  escape  from  the  field 
the  Gridley  boosters  were  over  on  the  gridiron. 

Dick  and  Dave  were  bodily  carried  to  dressing 
quarters.  Wadleigh,  who  had  shown  fine  gen- 
eralship in  this  stiff  game  was  cheered  until  the 
boosters  went  hoarse. 

"Gentlemen,"  cried  Coach  Morton,  raising  his 
voice  to  its  fullest  carrying  power  as  the  dress- 
ing quarters  filled,  "it's  probably  too  early  to 
brag,  but  I  feel  that  we've  got  an  old-fashioned 
Gridley  eleven  this  year." 

"Ask  Grant!" 

"Ask  anybody  in  Tottenville ! " 

The  first  yell  was  sent  up  by  Bipley,  the  sec- 
ond by  another  substitute. 

All  the  Gridley  members  of  the  team  were  ex- 
cited at  the  close  of  this  game.  Not  even  their 
weariness  kept  down  their  spirits. 

Herr  Schimmelpodt  didn't  attempt  to  enter 
quarters.  He  was  now  too  much  of  a  "sport" 
to  attempt  that.  But  he  stood  just  outside  the 
door,  vigorously  mopping  his  shining,  wet  face. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    173 

There  were  two  extra  places  in  the  German's 
hired  car.  Dave,  of  course,  was  asked  to  fill  one 
of  these,  and  Captain  Wadleigh  was  invited 
to  take  the  fifth  seat. 

More  dejected  than  ever  were  Bert  Dodge 
and  his  chum,  Bayliss,  as  they  slouched  away 
from  the  grounds.  They  did  not  attempt  to  in- 
vade the  gridiron  and  join  in  the  triumphal  pro- 
cession to  quarters. 

"You  can't  seem  to  down  that  fellow  Pres- 
cott,"  muttered  Bayliss,  in  disgust.  "Just  as 
you  think  you've  got  him  by  the  throat  you  find 
out  that  he's  sitting  on  your  chest  and  pulling 
your  hair." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  growled  Dodge  sulkily. 
"He  may  have  his  weak  spot,  and  it  may  be  a 
very  weak  spot  at  that." 

The  pair  moped  along  until  they  reached  the 
garage  in  which  they  had  left  the  runabout. 

Bayliss  was  standing  near  the  doorway,  while 
Bert  inspected  the  machinery  of  the  car. 

"Psst!  Look  out  there,"  muttered  Bayliss, 
stepping  back  from  the  open  doorway. 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  Bert.  "Oh,  I  see! 
Old  Schimmelpodt  brought  the  beggar  Prescott 
over  here  in  an  auto.  That's  how  the  fellow 
managed  to  get  into  the  game,  after  all.  Well, 
what  of  it  all,  anyway?" 

* '  That  car  is  running  along  slowly,  and  it  has 


174    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

a  full-sized  crowd  in  it,"  muttered  Bayliss,  go- 
ing closer  to  his  crony.  "Wadleigh,  Prescott 
and  Darrin — and  maybe  the  chauffeur  is  a  thick 
friend  of  theirs. '  ' 

"What  on  earth  are  you  driving  at?"  de- 
manded Dodge,  glancing  up. 

"Bert,  I  don't  believe  I'm  wholly  stuck  on  the 
scheme  of  us  driving  back  to  Gridley.  There 
are  too  many  lonely  spots  along  the  road. 

"Do  you  think  they'd  assassinate  us?"  jeered 
Bert. 

"I — I  think  Wadleigh  may  have  formed  the 
notion  of  stopping  us  and  giving  us  a  thrash- 
ing,"  responded  Bayliss. 

"Bosh!"  snapped  Dodge  quickly. 

Yet,  none  the  less,  he  paused  and  looked 
thoughtful. 

"There's  more  than  one  road  to  Gridley,  old 
fellow,"  muttered  Bert  uneasily.  "You  see 
Schimmelpodt  and  that  mucker  didn't  pass  us 
on  the  way  here." 

"But  I  think  they're  likely  to  have  guessed 
our  road,"  persisted  Bayliss.  "There  was  an 
ugly  look  on  Wadleigh 's  face,  too,  as  that  car 
drove  past  here." 

"But  old  Schimmelpodt  wouldn't  stand  for 
anything  disorderly  and — unlawful,"  urged 
Bert. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  retorted  Bayliss 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    175 

significantly.  "That  old  German  has  gone 
crazy  over  High  School  sports.  He  might  stand 
in  for  'most  anything.  You  know,  he  offered 
your  Dad  to  give  you  a  spanking  this  after- 
noon." 

The  thought  of  Herr  Schimmelpodt  's  big  and 
capable-looking  hands  caused  Bert  to  shiver  a 
bit  uneasily.  Yet  he  didn't  want  to  admit  that 
he  was  scared.  He  glanced  at  his  watch. 

"We've  time  to  catch  the  regular  train  back, 
I  suppose,  Bayliss." 

"Let's  do  it,  then,"  begged  the  other. 

"Will  you  pay  a  chauffeur  to  take  this  car 
home,  then?" 

"I'll  pay  half,"  volunteered  Bayliss  eagerly. 

"All  right,  then;  if  you're  pretty  near  broke, 
we'll  divide  the  cost,"  agreed  Dodge. 

An  arrangement  was  easily  made  with  the 
owner  of  the  garage.  Then,  the  charges  paid, 
this  pair  of  cronies,  who  considered  themselves 
much  better  than  the  usual  run  of  High  School 
boys,  hurried  over  to  the  railway  station. 

The  train  was  waiting  by  the  time  that  the 
pair  arrived.  Bert  and  Bayliss  hastily  pur- 
chased tickets,  then  boarded  the  handiest  car. 
The  train  proved  to  contain  few  people  except 
the  Gridley  student  body  and  boosters  from 
that  town. 

"Here,  what  are  you  fellows  doing  in  here!" 


176    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

angrily  demanded  Purcell,  as  the  cronies  en- 
tered one  of  the  cars. 

"We're  going  to  ride  to  Gridley,  if  you've 
no  objections,"  replied  Bert,  with  sulky  de- 
fiance. 

"No,  sir;  not  in  this  car!"  declared  Purcell 
promptly.  "Too  many  decent  people  here.  The 
cattle  car  for  yours!" 

"Oh,  shut  up!"  retorted  Dodge,  trying  to 
shove  into  a  vacant  seat. 

But  Purcell  gripped  him  and  pushed  him 
back. 

"No,  siree!  Not  in  here!  The  cattle  car  is 
your  number." 

"You " 

"We'll  pitch  you  off  the  train  if  you  have  the 
cheek  to  try  to  ride  in  this  car,"  insisted  Pur- 
cell. 

High  School  boys,  when  off  on  a  junket  of 
this  kind,  are  likely  to  be  as  wild  as  college 
boys.  A  score  of  the  Gridley  youths  now 
jumped  up.  It  looked  as  though  there  were 
going  to  be  a  riot. 

"Oh,  come  on,"  snarled  Bayliss,  plucking  his 
crony's  sleeve.  "We  don't  want  to  ride  with 
this  truck,  anyway." 

Into  the  next  car  stamped  the  two  young  mea, 
their  faces  red  with  anger  and  shame. 

"Sneaks!"  piped  up  some  one. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    177 
CHAPTER  XVII 

FACING    THE    " SCHOOL,   CUT" 

AT  tke  instant  of  their  entrance  into  the 
car  the  air  had  been  full  of  merry  chat- 
ter. 

There  were  many  High  School  girls  in  this 
car,  and  not  many  vacant  seats. 

As  the  word  "sneaks"  sounded  through  the 
car  everyone  turned  around. 

Bert  and  Bayliss  found  themselves  uncom- 
fortably conspicuous. 

At  once  all  the  talk  and  laughter  ceased. 
Stony  silence  followed. 

One  of  the  girls  was  sitting  alone  in  a  seat. 

Bayliss,  unable  to  endure  the  situation  any 
longer,  glided  forward,  dropping  into  the  va- 
cant place. 

"That  seat  is  engaged,"  the  girl  coolly  in- 
formed him. 

So  Bayliss,  redder  than  ever,  hurriedly  rose. 

Bert  had  already  started  for  the  next  car. 
Bayliss  slunk  along  after  him. 

"Sneaks!"  cried  some  one,  as  they  showed 
their  faces  in  still  the  next  car  forward. 

Here,  too,  all  the  chatter  stopped  at  once. 

Bert,  pulling  his  hat  down  over  his  eyes,  went 

M—  The  High  Seho»l  Lt^t  E*4. 


178    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

hurriedly  past  the  boys  and  girls  of  Gridley, 
and  into  the  next  car. 

Bayliss  followed  with  the  fidelity  and  close- 
ness of  a  little  dog. 

Now,  the  next  car  ahead  proved  to  be  the 
smoking  car.  Here,  at  any  rate,  the  despised 
pair  could  find  safe  harborage. 

But  one  of  the  men  of  Gridley,  who  had  fol- 
lowed the  football  team  this  day,  and  who  had 
got  an  inkling  of  the  story  of  the  arrest,  re- 
moved a  cigar  from  between  his  lips  and 
pointed  an  accusing  finger  at  the  boys. 

"See  here,  you  fellows!"  he  shouted.  "This 
car  is  exclusively  for  men.  Can  you  take  a 
hint?" 

"But  we've  got  to  sit  somewhere,"  flashed 
Bert  defiantly. 

"I  don't  know  as  that's  necessary,  either," 
retorted  the  Gridley  man.  "At  least,  I  don't 
care  if  it  is.  .  After  your  dirty  little  trick,  to- 
day, we  don 't  want  you  in  here  among  men.  Do 
we,  neighbors?" 

There  were  many  mutterings,  some  cat-calls 
and  at  least  a  score  of  men  rose. 

"You  let  me  alone,  you  fellows!"  yelled  Bert 
Dodge,  as  he  made  a  break  for  the  front  end 
of  the  car.  "Don't  any  of  you  dare  to  get  fresh 
with  me!" 

By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  front  end  of 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    179 

the  car  Bert  was  almost  sobbing  with  anger  and 
shame. 

Bayliss  had  followed,  white  and  silent. 

In  the  baggage  car,  to  their  relief,  the  sole 
railway  employee  there  did  not  object  to  their 
presence. 

Bert  and  his  crony  found  seats  on  two  trunks 
side  by  side. 

" Dodge,"  whispered  Bayliss  unsteadily,  af- 
ter the  train  had  pulled  out  from  Totten- 
ville,  "I'm  afraid  we're  in  bad  with  the  school 
push. ' ' 

"Afraid?"  sneered  Bert.  "Man,  don't  you 
know  it?" 

"Well,  it's  all  your  fault — this  whole  con- 
founded row!" 

"Oh,  you're  going  to  play  welcher,  are  you?" 
sneered  Bert.  "Humph!  By  morning  you'll 
be  a  full-fledged  mucker!" 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,"  argued  Bay- 
liss, though  rather  stiffly.  "I  know  my  family 
— and  my  caste." 

"I  should  hope  so,"  rejoined  Dodge,  with 
just  a  shade  more  cordiality. 

Rather  than  alight  at  Gridley,  and  face  the 
whole  High  School  crowd — for  scores  who  had 
not  been  able  to  meet  the  expense  of  the  trip 
to  Tottenville  would  be  sure  to  be  at  the  sta- 
tion to  meet  the  victorious  team — Bert  and  Bay- 


180    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

liss  rode  on  to  the  next  station,  then  got  off  and 
walked  two  miles  back  to  town. 

By  Monday  morning  the  punishment  of  the 
pair  was  made  complete. 

Bert  and  Bayliss  walked  to  school  together. 
As  they  drew  near  the  grounds  both  young  men 
felt  their  hearts  beating  faster. 

"I  wonder  if  there's  anything  in  for  us?" 
whispered  Dodge. 

"Sure  to  be,"  responded  Bayliss. 

"Well,  the  fellows  had  better  not  try  any- 
thing too  frisky.  If  they  do,  they'll  give  us  a 
chance  to  make  trouble  for  'em!" 

It  seemed  as  though  the  full  count  of  the  stu- 
dent body,  boys  and  girls,  had  assembled  m 
the  yard  this  morning. 

All  was  gay  noise  until  the  pair  of  cronies  ap- 
peared at  the  gate. 

Then,  swiftly,  all  the  noise  died  out. 

One  could  hardly  hear  even  a  breath  being 
drawn. 

The  silence  was  complete  as  Bert  and  Bayliss, 
now  very  white,  stepped  into  the  yard. 

Though  not  a  voice  sounded,  every  eye  was 
turned  on  the  white-faced  pair. 

Bert  Dodge's  lips  moved.  He  tried  to  sum- 
mon up  control  enough  of  his  tongue  to  utter 
some  indifferent  remark  to  his  companion. 

But  the  sound  simply  wouldn't  come. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    181 

After  a  walk  that  was  only  a  few  yards  in 
distance,  yet  seemed  only  less  than  a  mile  in 
length,  the  humiliated  pair  rushed  up  the  steps, 
opened  the  great  door  and  let  themselves  in. 

At  recess  neither  Bayliss  nor  Dodge  had  the 
courage  to  appear  outside.  As  they  left  school 
that  afternoon  they  were  treated  to  the  same 
dose  of  " silence." 

Tuesday  morning  neither  Dodge  nor  Bayliss 
showed  up  at  all  at  school. 

On  Thursday  morning  High  School  readers 
of  "The  Blade"  were  greatly  interested  in  the 
following  personal  paragraph: 

"Bayliss  and  Dodge,  both  of  the  senior  class,  High  School, 
have  severed  their  connection  with  that  institution.  It  is 
understood  that  the  young  men  are  going  elsewhere  in 
search  of  better  educational  facilities." 

That  was  all,  but  it  told  the  boys  and  girls 
at  Gridley  High  School  all  that  they  needed  to 
know. 

"That  is  the  very  last  gasp  of  the  'sorehead7 
movement,"  grinned  Tom  Reade,  in  talking  it 
over  with  Dan  Dalzell. 

"Well,  they  did  the  whole  trick  for  them- 
selves," rejoined  Dan.  "No  one  else  touched 
them,  or  pushed  them.  They  took  all  the  rope 
they  wanted — and  hanged  themselves.  Now, 
that  pair  will  probably  feel  cheap  every  time 


182    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

they  have  to  come  back  to  Gridley  and  walk 
the  streets." 

"All  they  had  to  do  was  to  be  decent  fel- 
lows," mused  Tom.  "But  the  strain  of  decency 
proved  to  be  too  severe  for  them." 

In  the  High  School  yard  that  Thursday  morn- 
ing there  was  one  unending  strain  of  rejoicing. 

Some  of  the  other  late  '  *  soreheads, ' '  who  had 
escaped  the  full  meed  of  humiliation — Davis, 
Cassleigh,  Fremont,  Porter  and  others — actu- 
ally sighed  with  relief  when  they  found  what 
they  had  escaped  in  the  way  of  ridicule  and 
contempt. 

"The  whole  thing  teaches  us  one  principle," 
muttered  Fremont  to  Porter. 

"What  is  that?" 

"Never  tackle  the  popular  idol  in  any  mob. 
If  you  can't  get  along  with  him,  avoid  him — 
but  don't  try  to  buck  him!" 

"Humph!"  retorted  Porter.  "If  you  mean 
Prescott  and  his  gang — Dick  &  Co.,  as  the  fel- 
lows call  them — I  can  follow  one  part  of  your 
advice  by  avoiding  them.  I  never  did  and 
never  could  like  that  mucker  Prescott ! ' ' 

The  fact  of  interest  to  Dick  would  have  been 
that  he  appeared  to  enjoy  the  respect  of  at  least 
ninety-five  per  cent,  of  the  student  body  of  the 
High  School. 

Surely    that    percentage    of    popularity    is 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    183 

enough  for  anyone.  The  fellow  who  enjoys  it 
can  get  along  without  the  approbation  of  a 
few  "soreheads"! 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

"PRIN."  GETS   IN   THE   PRACTICE 

IF  Dodge  and  Bayliss  devoted  any  time  to 
farewells  among  their  late  fellow-students 
before  quitting  Gridley  the  fact  did  not 
seem  to  leak  out. 

Yet  despite  the  absence  of  two  young  men 
who  considered  themselves  of  such  great  im- 
portance the  Gridley  High  School  appeared  to 
go  on  about  the  same  as  ever. 

It  was  the  season  of  football,  and  nearly  all 
of  the  school's  interest  and  enthusiasm  seemed 
to  spend  itself  in  that  direction.  Coach  Mor- 
ton did  all  in  his  power  to  push  the  team  on 
to  perfection;  the  other  teachers  worked  harder 
than  ever  to  keep  the  interest  of  the  students 
sufficiently  on  their  studies.  The  girls,  as  well 
as  the  boys,  suffered  from  the  infection  of  the 
gridiron  microbe. 

Five  more  games  with  other  High  School 
teams  were  fought  out,  and  now  Gridley  had 
an  unbroken  record  of  victories  so  far  for  the 
season. 


Such  a  history  can  often  be  built  up  in  the 
athletics  of  a  High  School,  but  it  has  to  be  a 
school  attended  by  the  cream  of  young  manhood 
and  having  an  abundance  of  public  interest  and 
enthusiasm  behind  it  all. 

Not  at  any  time  in  the  season  did  Coach  Mor- 
ton allow  the  training  work  to  slacken.  Regu- 
larly the  entire  squad  turned  out  for  field  work. 
If  the  afternoon  proved  to  be  stormy,  then  four 
blasts  on  the  city  fire  alarm,  at  either  two 
o'clock  or  two-thirty,  notified  the  young  men 
that  they  were  to  report  at  the  gym.  instead. 
There,  the  work,  though  different,  was  just  as 
severe.  The  result  was  that  every  youngster 
in  the  squad  "reeked"  with  good  condition  all 
through  the  season. 

It  is  in  just  this  respect  that  many  a  High 
School  eleven  fails  to  "make  really  good."  In 
a  team  where  discipline  is  lax  some  of  the  fel- 
lows are  sure  to  rebel  at  spending  "all  their 
time  training."  Where  the  coach  exercises  too 
limited  authority,  or  when  he  is  too  "easy," 
the  team's  record  is  sure  to  suffer  in  conse- 
quence. Many  a  High  School  eleven  comes  out 
a  tail-ender  just  because  the  coach  is  not  strict 
enough,  or  cannot  be.  Many  a  team  composed 
of  naturally  husky  and  ambitious  boys  fails  on 
account  of  a  light-weight  coach.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  best  coach  in  the  country  can't  make 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    185 

a  winning  eleven  out  of  fellows  who  won't  work 
or  be  disciplined. 

Coach  Morton's  authority  was  unbounded. 
After  the  team  had  been  organized  for  the  sea- 
son it  took  action  by  the  Athletics  Committee 
of  the  Alumni  Association  to  drop  a  man  from 
the  team.  But  coach  and  captain  could  drop 
the  offender  back  to  the  "sub"  seats  and  keep 
him  there.  Moreover,  it  was  well  known  that 
Mr.  Morton's  recommendation  that  a  certain 
young  man  be  dropped  was  all  the  hint  that 
the  Athletics  Committee  needed. 

Under  failing  health,  or  when  duties  pre- 
vented full  attention  to  football  training,  a 
member  of  the  team  was  allowed  to  resign.  But 
an  offending  member  couldn't  resign.  He  was 
dropped,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole  student 
body  being  dropped  signified  deep  disgrace. 

In  five  out  of  the  won  games  Dick  Prescott 
had  played  left  end,  and  without  accident.  Yet, 
as  it  was  wholly  possible  that  he  might  be  laid 
up  at  any  instant,  the  coach  was  assiduously 
training  Dan  Dalzell  and  Tom  Reade  to  play 
at  either  end  of  the  line.  Other  subs  were 
rigorously  trained  for  other  positions,  but  Dan 
and  Tom  were  regarded  as  the  very  cream  of 
the  sub  players  in  the  light-weight  positions. 

Dan  had  played  left  end  in  one  of  the  lesser 
games,  and  had  shown  himself  a  swift,  brilliant 


186    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

gridironist,  though  he  was  not  quite  as  crafty 
as  Prescott. 

Tom  Reade  had  less  of  strategy  than  Dan, 
but  relied  more  upon  great  bursts  of  speed  and 
in  the  sheer  ability  to  run  away  from  impending 
tackle. 

Now  the  boys  were  training  for  the  team's 
eighth  game,  the  one  to  be  played  against  the 
Hepburn  Falls  High  School,  a  strong  organiza- 
tion. 

"Remember  that  a  tie  saves  the  record,  but 
that  it  doesn't  look  as  well  as  a  winning," 
Coach  Morton  coaxed  the  squad  dryly,  as  they 
started  in  for  afternoon  practice. 

"We  miss  the  mascot  that  the  earlier  High 
School  teams  used  to  have,"  remarked  Hudson. 

"Yes?    What  was  it?"  inquired  coach. 

"Why,  bully  old  Dr.  Thornton  used  to  drop 
in  for  a  few  minutes,  'most  every  practice  af- 
ternoon," replied  Hudson.  "I  can  remember 
just  how  his  full,  kindly  old  face,  with  the 
twinkling  eyes,  used  to  encourage  the  fellows 
up  to  the  prettiest  work  that  was  in  them.  Oh, 
he  was  a  mascot — Dr.  Thornton  was!" 

Coach  Morton  was  of  the  same  mind,  but  he 
didn't  say  so,  as  it  would  sound  like  a  reflection 
on  the  present  unpopular  principal,  Abner  Cant- 
well. 

This  afternoon  there  was  no  real  team  prac- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    187 

tice.  Mr.  Morton  wanted  certain  individual 
play  features  brought  out  morfj  strongly.  One 
of  these  was  the  kicking  of  the  ball. 

After  several  had  worked  with  the  pigskin 
Mr.  Morton  called  out: 

"Now,  Prescott,  you  take  the  ball,  and  drop 
back  to  the  twenty-five-yard  line.  When  you 
get  there  name  your  shot — that  is,  tell  us  where 
you  intend  to  put  the  ball.  Where  doesn't  mat- 
ter as  long  as  it  is  a  long  kick  and  a  true  one. 
After  you  name  your  shot,  then  run  swiftly  to 
the  center  of  the  field.  From  there,  without  a 
long  pause,  kick  and  see  how  straight  you  can 
drive  for  the  point  you  have  named." 

"All  right,  sir,"  nodded  Dick.  Tucking  the 
pigskin  under  his  arm,  he  jogged  back  to  the 
twenty-five-yard  line. 

"Eight  over  there!"  called  Dick,  pointing. 
"I'll  try  to  drop  the  ball  in  the  front  row  of 
seats,  second  section  past  the  entrance." 

"Very  good,  Prescott!" 

No  one  was  sitting  in  the  section  named  by 
Prescott,  but  a  few  onlookers  who  had  been 
squatting  in  a  section  near  by  hastily  moved. 

' '  The  duffers !  They  needn  't  think  I  am  going 
to  hit  them  with  the  ball,"  muttered  Dick. 
Then  he  started  on  a  hard  run. 

Just  at  center  he  stopped  abruptly,  swung 
back  his  right  foot  and  dropped  the  ball. 


188    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

It  was  a  hard,  fast  drive.  The  ball  arched 
upward,  somewhat,  though  it  did  not  travel 
high. 

But  to  Dick,  standing  still  to  watch  the  effect 
of  his  kick  there  came  a  sudden  jolt.  A  man 
had  just  appeared,  walking  through  the  en- 
trance passage.  His  head,  well  up  above  the 
sloping  sides  of  the  passage  at  this  point,  was 
not  right  in  line  with  the  ball. 

And  that  man  was  Principal  Cantwell! 

Several  members  of  the  squad  saw  what 
might  happen,  but  every  one  of  them  was  too 
eagerly  expectant  to  make  a  sound  to  prevent 
the  threatened  catastrophe. 

Dick  saw  and  half  shivered.  Yet  in  his  de- 
sire to  say  something  in  the  fewest  words  of 
warning,  all  he  could  think  of  was: 

''Low  bridge!" 

Nor  did  Coach  Morton  succeed  in  thinking  of 
anything  more  helpful,  for  he  shouted  only: 

"Mr.  Cantwell!" 

"Eh?"  asked  the  principal,  turning  toward 
the  coach  and  therefore  not  seeing  the  ball  that 
was  now  nearly  upon  him. 

Mr.  Cantwell,  on  this  afternoon,  having  a  few 
calls  in  mind,  had  arrayed  himself  in  his  best. 
He  wore  a  long  black  frock  coat  which,  he  im- 
agined, made  him  look  at  least  as  distinguished 
as  a  diplomat.  In  the  matter  of  silk  hats,  being 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    189 

'decidedly  economical,  Mr.  Cantwell  allowed 
himself  a  new  one  only  once  in  two  years.  But 
a  new  one  had  been  due;  he  had  just  bought 
one,  and  now  wore  this  glossy  thing  in  the 
latest  style. 

There  was  no  time  for  more  warning. 

The  descending  ball  was  in  straight  line  with 
that  elegant  hat. 

Bump!  The  pigskin  struck  the  hat  full  and 
fair,  carrying  it  from  the  principal's  head. 

On  sailed  hat  and  football  for  some  three 
feet,  the  hat  managing  to  run  upside  down. 

E-r-r-rip!  The  force  with  which  the  football 
was  traveling  impaled  the  hat  on  a  picket  at 
the  side  of  the  stand.  Then,  as  if  satisfied  with 
its  work,  the  football  struck  and  bounded  back, 
landing  at  the  principal's  feet. 

For  one  moment  Mr.  Cantwell  was  dumb  with 
amazement. 

Then  he  saw  his  impaled  hat  and  realized 
the  extent  and  tragedy  of  his  loss.  The  angered 
man  went  white  with  wrath. 

"What  ruffian  did  that?"  he  roared. 

But  the  boys,  unable  to  holdjn  any  longer, 
had  let  out  a  concerted  though  half-suppressed 
" whoop!"  and  now  came  running  to  the  spot. 

"Who  kicked  my  hat  off?"  demanded  the 
principal,  pointing  tragically  to  the  piece  of 
headgear,  through  the  crown  and  past  the  rim 


190    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

of  which  the  picket  now  stood  up  as  though  in 
triumph. 

"You — you  got  in  the  way  of — the  ball,  sir," 
explained  Drayne,  trying  hard  to  keep  from 
roaring  out  with  laughter. 

"But  some  one  kicked  the  ball  my  way/'  in- 
sisted the  principal,  with  utter  sternness. 
"Don't  tell  me  that  no  one  did!  That  football 
could  not  fly  through  the  air  without  some  one 
propelling  it.  Now,  young  gentlemen,  who 
kicked  that  ball?" 

"I  did,  Mr.  Cantwell,"  admitted  Dick,  push- 
ing his  way  through  the  throng.  "And  I'm 
very  sorry  that  anything  like  this  has  hap- 
pened, sir." 

"Oh,  you  did  it,  eh?"  demanded  the  prin- 
cipal, eyeing  the  young  man  witheringly.  * '  And 
you  actually  expect  an  apology  to  restore  my 
new  and  expensive  hat  to  its  former  pristine 
condition  of  splendor?" 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  there,  sir,"  Dick 
explained.  "You  didn't  appear  until  just  after 
I  had  kicked  the  ball." 

"Prescott  is  quite  right,  Mr.  Cantwell,"  put 
in  Coach  Morton.  "None  of  us  knew  you  were 
here  in  the  passage  until  the  ball  had  been 
kicked — not,  in  fact,  until  the  ball  was  almost 
upon  you." 

"Then,  when  you  saw  me,  why  didn't  you 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    191 

call  out  to  warn  me?"  demanded  the  principal, 
still  fearfully  angry,  though  trying  to  keep  back 
unparliamentary  language. 

"I  did  call  out,  sir,"  replied  Dick.  " There 
was  mighty  little  time  to  think,  but  I  called 
out  the  two  quickest  words  I  could  think  of." 

"What  did  you  call?"  demanded  the  prin- 
cipal. 

"I  yelled  'low  bridge !'  " 

"A  most  idiotic  expression,"  snorted  the 
principal.  "What  on  earth  does  it  mean,  any- 
way?" 

"It  means  to  duck,  sir,"  Prescott  answered. 

"Duck?"  retorted  Mr.  Cantwell,  glaring  sus- 
piciously at  the  sober-faced  young  left  end. 
"Now,  what  on  earth  does  'duck'  mean,  unless 
you  refer  to  a  web-footed  species  of  poultry?" 

"Prescott  was  rattled,  beyond  a  doubt,  Mr. 
Cantwell,"  interposed  Coach  Morton.  "So  was 
I — the  time  was  so  short.  All  I  could  think  of 
was  to  call  out  to  you  by  name." 

"With  the  result  that  I  looked  your  way — 
and  lost  my  new  hat,"  snapped  the  principal. 
He  now  turned  to  take  the  spoiled  article  off 
the  paling.  He  looked  at  it  almost  in  anguish, 
for  he  had  been  very  proud  of  that  glossy 
article. 

"It's  a  shame,"  muttered  Drayne,  with  mock 
sympathy. 


192    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"That's  what  it  is,"  agreed  Dave  Darrin  in- 
nocently. "But — Mr.  Morton — I  think  the  mat- 
ter can  be  fixed  satisfactorily.  If  you  call  this 
to  the  attention  of  the  Athletics  Committee 
won't  they  vote  to  appropriate  the  price  of  a 
new  hat  out  of  the  High  School  athletics  fund? 
You  know,  the  fund  is  almost  overburdened 
with  money  this  year." 

"That  might  not  be  a  bad  idea,"  broke 
in  the  principal  eagerly.  "Will  you  call  this 
to  the  attention  of  the  Committee,  Mr.  Mor- 
ton! For  it  was  in  coming  here  to  watch  the 
young  men  that  I  lost  my  fine,  new  hat." 

"Now,  I'm  heartily  sorry,"  replied  Mr.  Mor- 
ton, ' l  but  I  am  certain  the  members  of  the  com- 
mittee will  feel  that  money  contributed  by  the 
citizens  of  the  town  can  hardly  be  expended  im 
purchasing  hats  for  anyone." 

"But "  Mr.  Cant  well  began  to  expostu- 
late. Then  he  stopped,  very  suddenly.  Just 
as  plainly  as  anyone  else  present  the  principal 
now  saw  the  absurdity  of  expecting  a  new  hat 
out  of  the  athletics  fund.  Mr.  Cantwell  shot 
a  very  savage  look  at  innocent-appearing  Dave 
Darrin. 

' '  My  afternoon  is  spoiled,  as  well  as  my  hat, ' ' 
remarked  the  principal,  turning  to  leave  with 
as  much  dignity  as  could  be  expected  from  a 
man  who  bore  such  a  battered  hat  in  his  hands. 


"The  hatter  might  be  able  to  block  your  hat 
out  and  repair  it,"  suggested  Hudson,  though 
without  any  real  intention  of  offering  aid. 
"Our  coachman  had  that  sort  of  trick  done  to 
a  played-out  old  silk  hat  that  Dad  gave  him." 

"Mr.  Hudson,"  returned  the  principal,  turn- 
ing and  glaring  at  this  latest  polite  tormentor, 
"will  you  be  good  enough  to  remember  that  I 
am  not  extremely  interested  in  your  family  his- 
tory?" 

"Back  to  your  practice,  men!"  called  the 
coach  sharply,  after  the  last  had  been  seen  of 
the  back  of  the  principal's  black  coat. 

"It  was  too  bad!"  muttered  Dick,  in  a  tone 
of  genuine  regret. 

"Say  that  again,  and  I'll  make  an  effort  to 
thrash  you,  Prescott!"  challenged  Hudson,  with 
a  grin. 

"Well,  I  am  sorry  it  happened,"  Dick  in- 
sisted. "And  mighty  sorry,  too." 

"You  couldn't  help  it." 

"I  know  it,  but  that  hardly  lessens  my  re- 
gret. I  don't  enjoy  the  thought  of  having  de- 
stroyed anyone  else's  property,  even  if  I 
couldn't  help  it  and  can't  be  blamed." 

"Prescott  said  he  didn't  know  I  was  there!" 
exclaimed  Mr.  Cantwell  angrily  to  himself. 
* '  Bosh !  That  boy  has  been  a  thorn  in  my  side 
ever  since  I  became  principal  of  the  school.  Of 

13—  The  High  School  Left  r.nd. 


194    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

course  he  saw  me — and  he  kicked  wonderfully 
straight!  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  could  make  him 
wear  this  hat  every  day  during  the  balance  of 
the  school  year!  Such  a  handsome  hat — eight 
dollars!" 

"It's  a  shame  to  tell  you,"  confided  Dave 
Darrin,  as  he  and  Dick  headed  the  sextette  of 
chums  on  the  homeward  tramp, ' '  but  you  're  cer- 
tainly looking  in  great  condition,  old  fellow." 

"I  feel  simply  perfect,  physically,"  Dick  re- 
plied. "I  have,  in  fact,  ever  since  I  first  be- 
gan to  train  in  the  baseball  squad  last  season. 
It's  wonderful  what  training  does  for  a  fellow! 
I  know  there's  a  heap  of  bad  condition  in  the 
world,  but  I  often  wonder  why  there  is.  Why, 
Dave,  I  ought  to  knock  wood,  of  course,  but  I 
feel  so  fine  that  it  seems  as  though  nothing  could 
put  me  out  of  form." 

At  that  moment  young  Prescott  had  no  idea 
how  easily  a  few  minutes  could  bring  one  from 
the  best  possible  condition  to  the  brink  of 
physical  despair. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    195 
CHAPTER  XIX 

LAURA   AND   BELLE    HAVE    A    SECRET 

'«  f*\  NLY  a  team  of  fools  would  hope  to  stop 

1      f      Gridley  High  School  this  year." 

Thus  stated  the  Elliston  "Tribune" 
after  Gridley  had  walked  through  Elliston 
High  School,  one  of  the  strongest  school  teams 
of  the  state,  by  a  score  of  eight  to  nothing. 

That  copy  of  "The  Tribune"  found  its  way 
over  to  Gridley,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  some 
of  the  High  School  boys. 

"Be  careful,  young  men,"  warned  Mr.  Mor- 
ton. '  *  Don 't  get  it  too  seriously  into  your  heads 
that  you  can't  be  beaten,  or  your  downfall  will 
date  from  that  hour.  The  true  idea  is  not  that 
you  can't  be  beaten,  but  that  you  won't.  Stick 
to  the  latter  idea  as  well  as  you  do  to  your  train- 
ing, and  it  will  be  a  good  eleven,  indeed,  that 
can  get  a  game  away  from  you." 

"Only  two  more  to  play  this  year,  anyway," 
replied  Hudson.  "We  can't  lose  much." 

"The  team  might  lose  two,  and  that  would 
be  a  worse  record  than  any  Gridley  eleven  has 
made  in  five  years, ' '  retorted  Mr.  Morton  dryly. 

"We  won't  lose  'em,  though,"  rejoined  Tom 
Reade.  "Every  fellow  in  the  squad  is  in  a 


196    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

conspiracy  to  pull  the  eleven  through  the  next 
two  games — by  its  hair,  if  necessary." 

"That  line  of  thought  is  better  than  conceit," 
smiled  the  coach. 

The  game  with  Paunceboro  High  School  came 
off,  one  of  the  most  stubbornly  fought  battles 
that  Gridley  had  ever  entered.  It  seemed  im- 
possible to  score  against  this  enemy. 

Again  and  again  Dick  broke  around  the  left 
end  in  a  spirited  dash,  or  Dan  Dalzell  made  one 
of  his  swift  sorties  at  right  end.  Then,  by  the 
time  that  Paunceboro  had  grown  used  to  end 
dashes,  Gridley  would  make  a  smashing  charge 
at  center. 

All  these  styles  of  attack,  however,  Paunce- 
boro met  smilingly.  In  the  first  half  there  was 
no  score. 

Yet  Paunceboro  did  not  succeed  any  better  in 
getting  through  or  around  Gridley 's  line  of  flexi- 
ble human  steel.  Until  within  ten  minutes  be- 
fore the  close  of  the  second  half,  it  looked  like 
a  tie  between  giants  of  the  school  gridiron. 

Then,  by  a  series  of  feints  in  which  Prescott, 
Darrin,  Drayne  and  Hudson  bore  off  the  most 
brilliant  honors,  although  all  under  Wadleigh's 
planning,  Paunceboro  was  sorely  pressed  down 
against  its  own  goal  line. 

Just  in  the  nick  of  time  Paunceboro  made  a 
safety,  and  thus  sent  the  ball  back  up  the  field. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    197 

But  it  cost  Paunceboro  two  reluctantly-given 
points,  and  that  was  the  score — two  to  nothing. 

Gridley  was  still  victor  in  every  game  so  far 
played  in  the  season.  November  was  now  far 
along,  and  there  remained  only  the  great 
Thanksgiving  Day  game.  This  contest,  against 
Filmore  High  School,  was  to  be  fought  out  on 
the  Gridley  field. 

"Your  football  season  will  soon  be  over, 
Dick,"  remarked  Laura  Bentley,  one  afternoon 
when  Prescott  and  Darrin,  on  their  way  back 
from  coach's  gridiron  grilling,  met  Laura  and 
Belle  on  Main  Street. 

"This  season  will  soon  be  over,"  replied  Dick 
"but  I  hope  for  another  next  year." 

"And  then,  perhaps,  at  college?"  hinted 
Belle. 

"If  we  go  to  college,"  replied  Dick  slowly. 

"Why?  Don't  you  expect  to?"  asked  Laura, 
in  some  surprise. 

"We  are  not  sure,"  murmured  Dick,  "that 
we  want  to  go  to  college." 

"Why,  I  thought  both  of  you  were  ambitious 
for  higher  education,"  cried  Belle. 

"  So  we  are, ' '  nodded  Dave. 

"  Oh !  Then,  if  not  to  college,  you  are  going 
to  some  scientific  school?"  guessed  Laura. 

"I  wonder  if  you  two  could  keep  a  secret?" 
laughed  Dick  teasingly. 


198    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

1 1  Try  us ! "  challenged  Belle  Meade. 

Dick  glanced  at  Dave,  who  gave  a  barely  per- 
ceptible nod. 

"No;  we  won't  try  you,"  retorted  Dick. 
"We'll  trust  you,  without  any  promise  on  your 
part." 

' '  Good ! ' '  cried  Laura,  in  a  gratified  tone. 

"Well?"  inquired  Belle,  as  neither  boy 
spoke. 

"It's  just  here,  then,"  Prescott  went  on,  in 
a  low  tone,  after  glancing  around  to  make  sure 
that  no  one  else  was  within  hearing.  "The 
Congressman  from  this  district,  in  a  year  or  so 
more,  will  have  the  filling  of  a  vacancy  at  West 
Point.  That  means  a  cadetship  from  this  dis- 
trict. Now,  a  Congressman  can  appoint  a  cadet 
as  a  matter  of  favoritism,  or  to  pay  a  political 
debt  to  some  relative  of  the  boy  he  so  appoints. 
But  the  custom,  in  this  district,  has  always  been 
for  the  Congressman  to  appoint  the  boy  who 
comes  out  best  in  a  competitive  examination. 
The  examination  is  thrown  open  to  all  boys,  of 
proper  age,  who  can  first  pass  a  good  physical 
examination." 

"So  you're  both  going  to  try  for  it?"  asked 
Belle  quickly. 

"No,"  retorted  Dave  very  quickly.  "That 
would  make  us  rivals.  Dick  and  I  don't  want 
to  be  rivals." 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    199 

"Then  where  do  you  come  in?"  asked  Belle, 
glancing  curiously  at  Darrin. 

"Whisper!"  replied  Dave,  looking  mischiev- 
ously mysterious.  After  a  pause  he  continued, 
almost  in  a  whisper : 

"At  just  about  the  same  time  there  will  be 
a  vacancy  at  Annapolis.  So  while  Dick  is  try- 
ing to  get  a  job  carrying  the  banner  for  the 
Army,  it  will  be  little  David  trying  for  a  chance 
to  be  a  second  Farragut  in  the  Navy." 

Dick  winced  at  his  chum's  rather  slighting 
allusion  to  an  Army  career,  but  on  this  one 
point  of  preference  in  the  way  of  the  service,  the 
two  chums  were  willing  to  disagree.  Darrin 
wouldn't  have  gone  to  West  Point  if  he  could. 
Dick  admitted  the  greatness  of  the  American 
Navy,  but  all  his  heart  was  let  on  the  Army. 

"Both  of  you  boys,  then,  are  planning  to  give 
up  your  lives  to  the  Flag?"  exclaimed  Laura. 

"Yes,"  nodded  Dick;  "do  you  think  it's  fool- 
ish?" 

"I  think  it's  glorious!"  breathed  Laura. 

"So  do  I,"  agreed  Belle  heartily;  "though, 
like  Dave,  I  should  think  the  Navy  would  be 
the  more  attractive. ' ' 

"Oh,  the  Navy  is  all  right,"  gibed  Dick.  "It 
would  never  suit  me,  though.  You  see,  a  fellow 
in  the  Navy  has  nothing  to  do  but  ride  into  a 
fight  on  board  a  first-class  ship.  It's  too  much 


200    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

like  being  a  Cook's  tourist  in  war  time.  Now, 
any  Army  officer,  or  a  private  soldier,  for  that 
matter,  has  to  depend  upon  his  own  physical 
exertions  to  get  him  into  the  fight." 

"And  an  Army  fellow,"  twitted  Dave,  "if  lie 
finds  the  fight  too  hard  for  him,  can  always  dig 
a  hole  and  hide  in  it.  But  where  can  a  naval 
officer  hide?" 

"Oh,  he  has  it  easy  enough,  anyway,  hiding 
behind  armor  plate,"  scoffed  Dick. 

"Of  one  thing  I  feel  certain,  anyway,"  said 
Laura  thoughtfully.  "You  are  both  of  you  cut 
out  for  the  military  life.  Under  the  most  fear- 
ful conditions  I  don't  believe  either  one  of  you 
would  ever  show  the  white  feather. ' ' 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Dick  gravely. 
"Neither  one  of  us  has  ever  been  tested  suffi- 
ciently. But  I  hope  you're  right,  Laura.  I'd 
sooner  be  dead,  at  this  instant,  than  to  feel  that 
my  cowardice  would  ever  throw  the  slightest 
stain  on  the  grand  old  Flag.  I  try  to  be  gener- 
ous in  my  opinions  of  others.  I  think  I  can 
stand  almost  any  man  except — the  coward!" 

"I'm  not  a  bit  afraid  of  either  one  of  you,  on 
that  score,"  broke  in  Belle  warmly. 

"That's  very  kind  of  you,"  nodded  Dave. 
"But  of  course  you  don't  know  any  more  about 
our  bravery  than  we  do  ourselves.  It  has  never 
been  proven." 


"How  many  young  men  have  been  killed  in 
football  this  year?"  asked  Laura  quietly. 

"I  think  the  paper  stated,  the  other  day,  that 
it  was  something  more  than  forty, ' '  replied  Dick. 

"Well,  don't  you  two  play  football?"  de- 
manded Laura.  "Don't  you  both  jump  into  the 
crush  as  fearlessly  as  anyone?  Doesn't  it  take 
about  as  much  nerve  to  play  fast  and  furious 
football  as  it  does  to  fight  on  the  battlefield? 
Isn't  football,  in  its  hardest  form,  a  great  train- 
ing for  the  soldier?" 

"Oh,  perhaps,"  laughed  Dick.  "For  that 
matter,  Laura,  I  believe  you  could^soon  talk  me 
into  believing  that  I'm  braver  than  good  old 
Phil  Sheridan!" 

"Hullo,"  muttered  Dave  suddenly.     "What" 


"Where's  the  crowd  rushing?"  demanded 
Belle,  in  the  same  breath. 

"There's  some  trouble  down  the  street!" 
cried  Darrin.  "And  smoke,  too." 

"It's  a  fire!"  cried  Dick,  wheeling  about. 
*  *  Come  along — all ! ' ' 

As  the  girls  started  to  scurry  down  the  street 
Dick  caught  Laura's  nearer  arm  to  aid  her. 
Dave  did  as  much  for  Belle. 

These  four  young  people  were  among  the  first 
hundred  and  fifty  to  gather  on  the  sidewalk  be- 
fore a  store  and  office  building  that  was  on  fire. 


202    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

It  was  a  five  story  building.  Fire  had  started 
in  back  on  the  second  floor.  Originating  in 
offices  empty  at  the  time,  the  blaze  had  gained 
good  headway  ere  it  was  discovered.  It  had 
eaten  up  to  the  third  and  fourth  floors,  and  was 
now  sweeping  frontward.  On  the  third  floor  the 
heat  had  cracked  the  window  glass,  and  the  air, 
rushing  in,  had  fanned  up  a  brisk  blaze.  Flames 
were  beginning  to  shoot  out  their  fiery  tongues 
through  these  third  story  windows. 

''Is  everyone  out  of  that  building?"  demanded 
the  policeman  on  the  beat,  rushing  up.  He 
had  just  learned  that  a  citizen  had  gone  to  ring 
in  the  fire  alarm,  so  now  the  policeman's  next 
thought  was  directed  toward  life  saving. 

There  was  a  quick  count  of  those  who  had 
been  in  the  offices  on  the  upper  floors. 

On  the  fourth  floor  one  suite  of  offices  had 
been  occupied  as  a  china  painting  school.  Miss 
Trent,  the  teacher,  who  had  reached  the  side- 
walk safely,  now  looked  about  her  anxiously. 

"I  had  only  one  pupil  up  there,  Miss  Grace 
Dodge,"  replied  Miss  Trent,  hurriedly.  "I 
called  to  her  and  then  ran.  Miss  Dodge  started 
after  me,  then  rushed  back  to  get  her  purse, 
palette  and  color  case." 

"Has  anyone  seen  Miss  Dodge!"  demanded 
the  policeman. 

No  one  had. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    203 

"Then  I'll  get  up  there,  if  I  can,"  muttered 
the  officer. 

Dropping  belt  and  club  to  the  sidewalk,  and 
pulling  his  helmet  down  tight  on  his  head,  the 
policeman  darted  into  the  building  and  up  the 
stairs. 

At  that  moment,  above  the  smoke  and  flames 
pouring  out  of  the  third  story  windows,  Grace 
Dodge  appeared  at  one  of  the  windows  on  the 
fourth  floor.  She  was  hatless,  and  a  streak  of 
blood  appeared  over  her  left  temple. 

"Don't  jump!"  shouted  several  men  loudly. 
"A  policeman  has  just  started  up  to  get 
you." 

Miss  Dodge  appeared  somewhat  dazed ;  it  was 
a  question  whether  she  understood.  But  her 
face  disappeared  from  the  window  way.  To 
many  of  the  horrified  ones  below,  it  appeared 
as  though  the  imperiled  girl  had  swayed  diz- 
zily away  from  the  window,  as  though  overcome 
by  the  heat  and  fumes  from  the  windows  below 
her. 

"Where  is  the  fire  department?  Is  it  never 
coming?"  wailed  one  woman  in  the  throng, 
wringing  her  hands. 

No  one  here  knew  that  the  citizen  who  had 
rushed  to  send  in  the  alarm  had  found  the  first 
box  out  of  order.  He  was  now  rushing  to  an- 
other alarm  box. 


204    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Out  of  the  hallway  came  the  policeman,  white- 
faced  and  tottering  weakly. 

"I — I  couldn't  get  up  much  above  the  second 
floor,"  he  gasped,  in  a  voice  out  of  which  the 
strength  was  gone.  "I — I  guess  the  — heat  and 
smoke  got  me !  But — some  one — must  try ! ' ' 

Where  was  that  fire  department ! 

Dick,  staring  over  the  crowd,  found  that  all  of 
his  chums  had  arrived. 

* '  Come  on,  fellows ! "  he  yelled.  ' '  We  Ve  got 
to  do  something.  Follow  me!" 

Prescott,  after  one  swift  glance  at  the  build- 
ings, made  a  dash  for  the  door  of  the  one  just 
to  the  right  of  the  blazing  pile.  Into  the  stair- 
way entrance  he  dashed,  followed  by  Dave  Dar- 
rin,  by  Tom  Eeade,  Greg  Holmes,  Dan  Dalzell 
and  Harry  Hazelton. 

'  *  Hurrah ! ' '  yelled  some  one,  in  infectious  en- 
thusiasm. "Dick  &  Co.  to  the  rescue!" 


CHAPTER   XX 

IN    THE    LINE    OF    DARING 

THAT  became  instantly  the  cry : 
"Dick  &  Co.  to  the  rescue!" 
Yet  none  of  the  sextette  heard  it. 
They  were  all  inside,  at  the  first  step  of  their 
projected  deed  of  bravery. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    205 

"All  of  you  but  Dave  run  through  the  offi- 
ces!" yelled  Dick.  "Some  of  the  tenants  must 
have  fire-rope  coils.  Grab  the  first  rope  you  can 
find  and  bring  it  to  me  on  the  roof.  Hustle! 
Dave,  you  follow  me!" 

Even  to  boys  daily  grilled  on  the  football 
gridiron  it  was  no  mere  matter  of  sport  to  dart 
up  five  flights  of  stairs  at  fast  speed. 

Dick  Prescott  was  panting  as  he  reached  the 
roof  and  threw  open  the  skylight  door. 

But  he  got  out  on  the  roof,  hurrying  across 
it,  doing  his  best,  at  the  same  time,  to  gulp  in 
chestfuls  of  fresh  air. 

Then  he  came  to  the  edge  of  the  roof  next  to 
the  burning  building. 

The  roof  of  that  other  building  was  about  fif- 
teen feet  below  the  roof  on  which  Dick  Prescott 
stood. 

After  an  instant  of  swift  calculation  young 
Prescott  jumped. 

He  landed,  below,  on  the  balls  of  his  feet, 
though  the  next  instant  the  momentum  of  the 
fall  carried  him  forward  onto  his  hands. 

In  another  twinkling  Prescott  was  up,  run- 
ning toward  the  front  edge  of  the  building. 

He  stopped  at  the  skylight  door,  but  discov- 
ered that  the  flames  and  smoke  below  shut  off 
hope  there.  So  he  continued  to  the  front  of  the 
roof. 


206    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Here  Dick  glanced  back,  for  a  second,  to  make 
sure  that  Dave  had  followed  safely. 

Darrin  was  on  his  feet,  and  waved  his  hand 
reassuringly. 

Then  Dick  Prescott  leaned  out,  peering  down 
at  the  front  of  the  burning  building. 

"There's  Prescott!"  shouted  some  of  the 
most  enthusiastic  watchers. 

"Hurrah.     Old  Gridley  High  School!" 

But  Dick  paid  no  heed  to  the  crowd.  He  was 
trying  to  locate  the  window  at  which  Grace 
Dodge  had  appeared,  and  was  trying  to  con- 
trive how  he  would  use  a  rope  when  one  came. 

In  the  meantime  Darrin,  having  jumped  to 
the  lower  roof,  remained  where  he  had  dropped, 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  other  fellows  with 
a  rope. 

After  a  few  moments  they  came.  Eeade  had 
a  coil  of  inch  rope,  which  he  waved  enthusiastic- 
ally. 

"Wait  until  we  get  the  rope  uncoiled,"  called 
Greg.  "Then  we'll  lower  some  of  us  down  to 
join  you." 

"Lower — nothing!  Jump!"  yelled  Dave,  in 
a  stentorian  quarter-deck  voice. 

Greg  obeyed,  instanter.  Tom  flung  the  coil 
of  rope  below,  then  followed  it.  Hazelton  and 
Dalzell,  an  instant  later,  were  with  their  com- 
rades. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    207 

"Come  on,  now,"  ordered  Darrin,  who  had 
snatched  up  the  coil  of  rope  and  was  darting 
over  the  roof.  "Dick's  waiting  for  us." 

Prescott,  still  looking  below,  heard  the  swish 
of  ropes  on  the  roof  as  Dave  uncoiled  and  threw 
the  lengths  out. 

"Good!"  yelled  Dick,  looking  back.  "Tom, 
you  take  a  turn  or  two  of  the  rope  around  that 
chimney,  for  anchor.  Dave,  you  stand  here  at 
the  roof  edge  to  pay  out  the  rope.  Greg,  you 
and  Dan  get  in  behind  Dave  to  help  on  the  hoist. 
See,  Dave !  That  third  window  from  the  end — 
there's  where  the  rope  wants  to  go." 

"You  going  down  the  rope?"  queried  Darrin 
dryly. 

"Yes." 

"Wait,  then,  and  I'll  tie  some  knots  in  it." 

"No  time  for  that,"  vetoed  Dick  sharply. 
"I'll  have  to  take  my  chances.    Miss  Dodge  may 
be  smothering,  or  burning.     Pay  it  out — fast!" 

Dick  watched  until  he  saw  that  the  rope  had 
gone  low  enough,  and  that  it  hung  before  the 
right  window. 

* '  Now,  brace  yourselves,  fellows ! "  he  called, 
between  his  hands,  for  the  roar  of  the  flames  and 
the  crackling  of  timbers  made  some  sort  of 
trumpet  necessary,  even  at  short  range. 

On  his  knees,  his  back  to  the  street,  at  the 
edge  of  the  roof,  Dick  Prescott  seized  the  rope. 


208    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Then,  with  a  fervent  inward  prayer,  he 
started  over  the  edge,  and  hung  in  the  air,  eighty 
feet  from  the  ground. 

Down  below,  the  ever-increasing  crowd  let  out 
a  cyclonic,  roaring  cheer.  It  was  a  foolish  thing 
to  do,  for  it  might  have  rattled  the  young  foot- 
ball player.  But  Prescott  paid  no  attention  to 
the  racket,  and  kept  on  lowering  himself,  coolly. 

Here  was  where  his  gym.  training  and  all  his 
football  practice  came  in  splendidly.  Every 
muscle  was  strong,  every  nerve  true  to  its  duty ! 

Not  once  did  Prescott  fear  that  he  would  lose 
his  grip  and  fall  to  the  street  below. 

Up  above,  at  the  roof's  edge,  stood  Darrin, 
directing  as  though  from  quarter-deck  or  mili- 
tary-top. Dave  had  to  lean  rather  far  out,  at 
that  great  height,  but  it  did  not  make  him  dizzy. 

"There!  The  grand  old  chap  has  landed  on 
the  window-sill!  He  has  gone  inside!"  cried 
Dave,  turning  to  his  comrades.  "Now  we  can 
wait  until  we  feel  a  signal-pull  on  the  rope." 

As  he  turned  away  from  the  smoke  that  was 
coming  up  through  the  air  Darrin  realized  how 
much  smoke  he  had  inhaled.  He  thumped  his 
chest  lightly,  taking  deep  breaths. 

Dick  was  in  the  studio  now. 

Close  to  the  window,  where  the  draught  was 
strongest,  Prescott  found  the  smoke  so  thick  that 
he  had  to  grope  his  way  through  it ;  but  bending 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    20£ 

low,  he  quickly  came  to  where  Grace  Dodge  lay 
unconscious  on  the  floor. 

She  looked  lifeless,  as  she  lay  there. 

"Whew!  I'm  afraid  she's  a  goner,  already!'7 
thought  Dick,  with  a  great  surge  of  compassion. 

However,  seizing  the  unconscious  girl  by  the 
shoulders  he  dragged  her  swiftly  over  the  floor 
to  the  window  through  which  he  had  come. 

The  rope  still  dangled  there. 

Seizing  it,  Dick  gave  it  a  gentle  pull — not  too 
hard,  for  fear  the  jerk  might  catch  good  old 
Dave  off  his  guard  and  yank  him  over  the  roof's, 
edge. 

In  another  instant  Darrin  was  "back  on  the 
job,"  peering  down. 

Dick  made  a  signal  that  Dave  understood  per- 
fectly. 

Prescott's  next  care  was  to  knot  his  end  of 
the  rope  swiftly  around  Grace's  body,  above  the 
waist,  adjusting  the  coils  so  that  considerable 
of  the  strain  would  come  under  the  shoulders, 
where  it  could  best  be  borne. 

Once  more  Dick  leaned  out  of  the  window, 
making  motions.  Dave  Darrin  nodded.  The 
fascinated  crowd  in  the  street  looked  up,  breath- 
less. Few  now  even  thought  to  wonder  why  the 
fire  department  did  not  appear. 

At  Dave's  command  the  others  on  the  roof 
with  him  began  to  hoist.  Slowly,  Dick  aided 

14—  The  High  School  Left  End. 


210    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Grace's  body  through  the  window.  Then  the 
girl,  motionless,  so  far  as  she  herself  was  con- 
cerned, swung  in  the  air,  slowly  ascending. 

Now  groans  of  horror  went  up  from  the 
street.  It  seemed  to  the  onlookers  below  as 
though  a  dead  body  were  being  hoisted. 

Dick  had  made  a  loose  hitch  of  the  end  of  the 
rope  so  that  it  bound  the  girl's  skirt  about  her 
ankles. 

As  he  watched,  he  saw  the  swinging  body 
steady  at  the  roof  edge.  Then  Grace  disap- 
peared from  his  sight  as  Dave  and  the  others 
hauled  her  to  momentary  safety. 

"Ugh!"  gasped  young  Prescott.  The  smoke 
and  the  hot  air,  filling  his  lungs,  drove  him  back 
from  the  open  window  to  a  spot  where  the 
draught  was  less  intense. 

After  a  few  moments  he  heard  something  clat- 
tering against  the  window  frame. 

"What  is  it?"  wondered  Dick,  dreamily,  for 
his  senses  were  leaving  him. 

Bousing  himself,  by  a  supreme  effort  of  the 
will,  the  young  football  player  staggered  to- 
ward the  window.  It  was  the  rope,  which  Dave 
had  lowered  for  him.  And  thoughtful  Darrin 
had  swiftly  knotted  a  strong  slip-noose  at  the 
end. 

Dick  had  just  strength  and  consciousness 
enough  left  to  slip  this  noose  over  his  head  and 


Dick  Rescues  Grace  Dodge. 
211 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    213 

down  under  his  armpits,  drawing  the  noose 
tight.  Then — so  fast  was  the  hot  air  and  smoke 
overcoming  him  that  he  had  to  fight  for  it! — 
Dick  forced  his  way  to  the  sill  and  gave  a  hard 
tug  at  the  rope.  Then  he  reeled,  falling  back 
senseless  upon  the  floor. 

In  that  same  instant,  not  far  behind  him,  the 
flames  burst  through  the  flooring. 

There  must  be  some  quick  work,  now,  or  Dick 
Presscott  would  meet  a  hero's  death  at  seven- 
teen! 

CHAPTEK   XXI 

THE   PRICE   OF   BRAVERY 

DAVE  DABBIN  did  not  falter  in  his  duty 
for  an  instant. 

He  had  been  waiting  for  that  tug  on 
the  rope. 

Now  he  leaned  out,  and  as  far  over  as  was 
possible  without  pitching  himself  headlong  into 
the  street  below. 

' '  Dick !     Oh,  Dick ! "  he  roared. 
There  was,  of  course,  no  answer,  for  young 
Prescott  lay  senseless  on  the  floor,  smoke  and 
hot  air  filling  his  lungs,  the  creeping  flames 
threatening  to  pounce  upon  and  devour  him. 

Wondering,  Dave  gave  a  slight  signal  tug 
himself  at  the  rope. 


214    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

From  below  there  was  no  answer. 

"Something  uncanny  has  happened,  down 
there ! ' '  muttered  Darrin. 

"What's  wrong?"  called  Reade. 

"I  wish  I  knew,"  muttered  Dave.  "There  is 
no  further  signaling." 

"Then " 

That  was  as  far  as  Tom  got  with  his  hint  at 
an  explanation. 

"Cut  it,"  retorted  Darrin  briskly.  "Keep 
the  rope  steady.  I  'm  going  down  there. ' ' 

"Can  you " 

"Yes!"  blazed  Dave  recklessly.  "Watch  me. 
Here  goes  nothing!" 

As  the  last  three  words  left  his  lips  Darrin 
swung  free  over  the  roof  edge. 

He  was  going  down  the  straining,  smooth 
rope  now,  hand  under  hand. 

The  dense  crowd  in  the  street  below  was 
quick  to  realize  that  something  new  and  tragic 
was  on  the  cards. 

A  gasp  of  suspense  went  up  as  Dave  slowly 
went  down. 

Many  in  the  street  uttered  a  silent  prayer — 
for  heroes  are  ever  dear  to  the  multitude. 

Dave's  task  now  was  more  dangerous  than 
Dick's  original  undertaking  had  been. 

The  smoke  was  rolling  up  with  ever  increas- 
ing density. 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    215 

"I'll  close  one  eye,  and  save  that  to  see  Dick 
with/'  Darrin  muttered  grimly  to  himself. 

So,  with  one  eye  closed  tightly,  Dave  yet 
knew  when  the  instant  came  to  swing  in  and 
stand  on  the  sill. 

Opening  the  closed  eye,  Darrin  sought  to  peer 
into  the  studio. 

Such  a  gust  of  smoke  came  out  at  him  that 
Darrin  very  nearly  lost  his  balance  from  diz- 


ziness. 
tt 


I  can't  see  a  blessed  thing  in  there,"  Dave 
muttered.  So  he  sprang  inside. 

Now,  quickly  enough  Dave  stumbled  over  the 
prostrate  figure  of  his  unconscious  comrade. 

Fairly  pouncing  upon  Prescott,  Dave  half 
raised  that  body,  then  dragged  it  to  the  win- 
dow. 

"Pull!"  Darrin  yelled  up  to  Tom  Reade,  peer- 
ing over  the  roof's  edge. 

Over  the  roar  of  the  fire  Dave's  voice  did 
not  carry  well,  but  his  gesture  was  seen. 

Reade  gave  the  command,  and  the  hoisting 
commenced,  while  Dave,  standing  at  his  post, 
though  choking,  and  his  brain  reeling,  swung 
Dick's  feet  clear  of  the  sill. 

Then  the  body  began  to  go  up  quickly,  while 
the  crowd  watched  in  greater  awe  than  ever. 

Dave  Darrin  leaped  out  upon  the  sill,  hold- 
ing a  handkerchief  over  his  mouth  and  nostrils 


216    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

in  order  to  protect  his  lungs  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. 

With  the  other  hand  Dave  clutched  at  the 
window  frame,  for  he  had  a  fearful  dread,  now, 
that  he  would  lose  his  hold,  his  footing  and 
plunge  headlong  into  the  street. 

Dick's  body  disappeared  over  the  roof  edge. 

After  what  seemed  like  a  short  age,  but  what 
was  only  a  few  moments,  Keade  again  showed 
Ms  face,  dangling  the  noose  in  his  hand. 

Then  he  let  it  fall  until  it  hung  close  to  Dar- 
rin. 

Reade  and  the  crowd  alike  watched  breath- 
lessly, while  Dave  Darrin,  fumbling,  almost 
blindly,  tried  to  slip  the  noose  over  his  head 
and  adjust  it  under  his  shoulders. 

Once  he  let  go  of  the  rope,  half  swaying  out 
into  the  street. 

A  cry  of  terror  went  up  from  the  spectators 
below. 

Tom  Reade  carefully  swung  the  rope  back 
again.  Dave  caught  it.  After  it  had  seemed 
as  though  he  must  fail  Dave  at  last  adjusted 
the  noose  under  his  armpits. 

"All  right?"  bellowed  Tom  Reade,  making 
a  trumpet  of  his  hands. 

Darrin  answered  only  by  a  tug  on  the  rope. 
Then  he  hung  in  mid  air  as  the  hoisting  began. 

At  that  moment  a  new  sound  came  on  the 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    217 

air.  The  fire  department,  with  a  short  circuit 
somewhere  in  its  wires,  had  at  last  been  notified 
by  telephone,  and  the  box  number  was  pealing 
out  on  two  church  bells. 

Barely  were  Dave's  feet  clear  of  the  top  of 
the  window  casing  when  a  draught  drove  the 
flames  out. 

His  shoes  were  almost  licked  by  the  red 
tongues. 

"  Hurry,  you  hoisters!"  bellowed  a  man  in 
the  street. 

His  voice  did  not  carry,  but  Tom  Eeade  and 
his  wearied  helpers  were  doing  all  that  could 
be  done  by  strong,  willing  hands. 

Another  and  longer  tongue  of  flame  leaped 
out  through  the  shattered  window,  and  again 
Dave's  swinging  feet  were  all  but  bathed  in  fire. 

"Thank  heaven  we've  got  you  up  here,  old 
fellow!"  panted  Tom  Reade  fervently,  as  Dave 
was  hauled  over  the  roof's  edge,  helping  him- 
self a  little. 

Dave,  as  soon  as  the  noose  had  been  slipped 
over  his  head,  got  up  on  his  feet,  though  he 
staggered  a  bit  dizzily. 

"We  must  all  get  back  up  to  that  roof,"  or- 
dered Dave,  pointing  to  the  roof  down  from 
which  they  had  leaped  a  while  before. 

"We  can't,"  retorted  Reade.  "We'll  have 
to  wait  for  the  firemen  and  their  ladders." 


218    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

11  Ladders — nothing!"  retorted  Dave,  though 
his  voice  was  weak  and  husky.  "We'll  make 
our  own  ladders.  You,  Holmes,  get  over  against 
that  wall.  Hazelton,  you  beside  him.  Reade, 
you  climb  up  onto  their  shoulders.  Now,  Dan 
you  climb  up  on  Reade 's  shoulders,  and  you'll 
reach  that  roof  up  there!" 

Darrin's  orders  were  quickly  carried  out. 
This  trick  of  wall  scaling  was  really  not  difficult 
for  football  men  in  daily  practice.  Dan's  head 
was  quickly  above  the  gutter  of  the  next  roof. 
He  pulled  himself  over  the  edge. 

"Stand  by  to  catch  the  rope,  Dan,"  shouted 
Dave.  "Throw  it  to  him,  Tom." 

Whizz-zz!  whirr-rr!  That  rope  was  over  the 
edge  and  in  Dan's  hands.  Dalzell  raced  to  a 
chimney,  taking  two  or  three  turns  around  and 
making  fast. 

"Come  on!"  he  called  down. 

Harry  Hazelton  ascended  the  rope  hand  over 
hand,  Reade  following.  Then  Greg  Holmes 
went  up. 

Dave,  in  the  meantime,  was  preparing  the  ap- 
parently lifeless  Grace  Dodge  for  the  ascent. 
As  he  gave  the  signal  those  on  the  roof  above 
hauled  away. 

Grace  was  soon  in  a  position  of  safety. 

Then  Dick,  who  had  not,  as  yet,  revived,  was 
hoisted. 


.  THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    219 

"Now,  we'll  haul  you  up,"  called  down 
Eeade. 

"Forget  it,"  mocked  Darrin.  "Toss  down 
the  rope  and  I'll  use  my  own  muscles." 

So  Dave  joined  them  and  stood  beside  them 
on  the  roof. 

"Now,  we'd  better  make  the  street  as  soon 
as  we  can,"  Darrin  advised.  "The  one  who's 
strongest  pick  up  Miss  Dodge,  and  another 
stand  by  for  relief.  Two  of  you  will  have  to 
tote  Dick.  I  wish  I  could  help,  but  I'm  afraid 
my  strength  is  'most  all  out. 

Dave,  however,  led  the  way.  By  the  time 
that  the  little  party  had  descended  two  nights 
they  were  met  by  firemen  rushing  up.  After 
that  the  task  of  reaching  the  street  was  easy. 

As  the  rescuers  and  rescued  came  out  upon 
the  street  the  crowd,  now  driven  back  beyond 
police  lines,  started  to  cheer. 

But  Dave's  hand,  held  up,  acted  as  a  silencer. 
Dick  and  Miss  Dodge  were  carried  to  a  neigh- 
boring drug  store  for  attention. 

Now  the  firemen  tried  to  run  up  ladders  to 
the  studio  floor,  with  a  view  to  fighting  the 
flames  by  turning  the  stream  on  through  the 
windows.  Flames  drove  them  back.  The  on- 
lookers were  quick  to  grasp  the  fact  that  had 
no  one  acted  before  the  arrival  of  the  firemen, 
Grace  Dodge  would  have  been  lost  indeed.  As 


220    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

it  was,  the  fire  fighters  were  obliged  to  fight 
the  fire  from  the  roof  of  the  next  building. 

The  office  building  in  which  the  flames  had 
started  was  almost  gutted  before  the  blaze  was 
subdued. 

An  hour  later  Grace  Dodge  was  placed  in  an 
automobile  and  carried  to  her  home,  a  physician 
accompanying  her. 

She  had  revived  for  a  brief  period,  but  had 
again  sunk  into  unconsciousness.  Whether  her 
life  could  be  saved  was  a  matter  of  the  gravest 
doubt. 

And  Dickf 

Young  Prescott  was  revived  soon  enough,  af- 
ter expert  assistance  had  been  secured. 

Yet  he  had  swallowed  more  of  the  overheated 
air  than  had  the  girl. 

In  the  minds  of  the  medical  men  there  was 
a  grave  doubt  as  to  whether  his  lungs  could 
be  fully  restored — or  whether  he  would  be 
doomed  to  a  spell  of  severe  lung  trouble,  end- 
ing, most  likely,  in  death  at  a  later  day! 

Scores  of  people  turned  back  from  that  fire 
with  tears  in  their  eyes. 

They  had  seen  this  day  something  that  they 
would  remember  all  their  lives. 

"Dick  and  Dave  were  wondering  whether 
they  had  courage  enough  for  the  military  serv- 
ice," sobbed  Laura  Bentley,  in  the  privacy  of 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    221 

Belle's  room.  "They  have  courage  enough  for 
anything!" 

Dick  was  up  and  about  the  next  day,  though 
he  did  not  go  to  school. 

Moreover,  later  reports  placed  him  out  of 
serious  danger.  The  football  squad  was  gloomy 
enough,  however.  Their  star  left  end  man 
would  not  be  in  shape  for  the  big  Thanksgiving 
Day  game. 

CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   THANKSGIVING   DAY   GAME 

you're  a  great  one,  Prescott,  to 
throw  us  down  in  this  way,"  chaffed 
Drayne,  as  Dick  strolled  into  dressing 
quarters. 

"Oh,  come,  now!"  broke  in  Darrin  impa- 
tiently. "It's  bad  enough,  Drayne,  to  have  to 
play  side  partner  to  you  in  the  biggest  game 
in  the  year,  without  having  to  listen  to  your 
fat-headed  criticsm  of  better  men." 

Drayne  flushed,  and  might  have  retorted,  had 
not  Wadleigh  broken  in,  in  measured  tones,  yet 
with  much  significance  in  his  voice: 

"Yes,  Drayne;  cut  out  all  remarks  until 
you  've  made  good.  Of  course  you  are  going  to 
make  good,  but  talk  will  sound  better  after 
deeds. ' ' 


222    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Most  of  the  fellows  who  were  togging  were 
uneasy. 

They  wanted,  with  all  their  hearts,  to  win 
this  day's  game.  First  of  all,  the  game  was 
needed  in  order  to  preserve  their  record  for 
unbroken  victories.  Then  again,  Filmore  High 
School  was  a  team  worth  beating  at  any  time, 
and  Filmore  boosters  had  been  making  free  re- 
marks about  a  Gridley  Waterloo. 

So  there  was  a  feeling  of  general  depression 
in  dressing  quarters. 

Dick  Prescott,  with  his  dashing,  crafty,  splen- 
did, score-making  work  at  left  end,  had  become 
a  necessity  to  the  Gridley  eleven. 

''It's  the  toughest  luck  that  ever  happened," 
grumbled  Hazelton,  right  guard,  to  Holmes, 
right  tackle.  "And  I  don't  believe  Drayne  is 
in  anything  like  condition,  either." 

"Now,  see  here,  you  two,"  broke  in  Captain 
Wadleigh  behind  them,  as  he  gripped  an  arm 
of  either  boy,  "no  croaking.  We  can't  afford 
it." 

"We  can't  afford  anything,"  grinned  Hazel- 
ton  uneasily. 

"Oh,  of  course,  we're  going  to  win  to-day — 
Gridley  simply  has  to  win,"  added  Holmes 
hastily. 

"Yes;  you  two  look  as  though  you  had  the 
winning  streak  on,"  growled  Wadleigh,  in  a 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    223 

low  voice.  "For  goodness'  sake  come  out  of 
your  daze!" 

"Do  you  think  yourself  that  Drayne  is  fit?" 
demanded  Hazelton. 

"He's  the  fittest  man  we  have  that  can  play 
left  end,"  retorted  Wadleigh. 

"Knocking,  are  you?"  demanded  Drayne, 
coming  up  behind  them.  "Nice  fellows  you 
are ! ' ' 

"Oh,  now,  see  here,  Drayne,  no  bad  blood," 
urged  Wadleigh.  He  spoke  authoritatively, 
yet  coaxingly,  too.  "Remember,  we've  got  to 
keep  all  our  energies  for  one  thing  to-day." 

"Well,  I'm  mighty  glad  you  two  don't  play 
on  my  end  of  the  line,"  sneered  Drayne,  looking 
at  Hazelton  and  Holmes  with  undisguised  hos- 
tility. 

"Cut  it,  Drayne.  And  don't  you  two  talk 
back,  either,"  warned  Wadleigh  sternly. 

"Oh,  acknowledge  the  corn,  Drayne,"  broke 
in  Hudson,  with  what  he  meant  for  good  humor. 
"Just  say  you're  no  good  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  for  an  instant, 
broken  by  one  unidentified  fellow,  muttering  in 
a  voice  that  sounded  like  a  roar  in  the  silence: 

"Drayne?    Humph!" 

"There  you  go!  That's  what  all  of  you  are 
saying  to  yourselves!"  cried  Drayne  angrily. 
"For  some  reason  vou  idiots  seem  to  think  I'm 


224    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

in  no  shape  to-day.  Hang  it,  I  'm  sorry  I  agreed 
to  play.  For  two  cents  I  wouldn't  play." 

"Drayne  can  be  bought  off  cheaply,  can't 
he?"  remarked  one  of  the  fellows. 

The  last  speaker  did  not  intend  that  his  voice 
should  reach  Drayne,  but  it  did. 

"Say,  you  fellows  all  have  a  grouch  on,  just 
because  I'm  playing  to-day!"  quivered  the  vic- 
tim of  the  remarks.  "Oh,  well,  never  mind! 
I  '11  cure  your  grouch,  then ! ' ' 

Seating  himself  on  a  locker  box,  Drayne  be- 
gan to  unfasten  the  lacings  of  his  shoes. 

"Here,  man!  What  are  you  doing?"  de- 
manded Captain  Wadleigh,  bounding  forward 
angrily. 

"Curing  the  grouch  of  this  bunch,"  retorted 
Drayne  sulkily. 

"Man  alive,  there's  no  time  to  fool  with  your 
shoes  now!"  warned  the  team  captain. 

"I'm  not  going  to  need  this  pair,"  Drayne 
rejoined.  ' '  Street  shoes  will  do  for  me  to-day. ' ' 

"Not  on  the  gridiron!" 

"I'm  not  going  on  the  field.  I've  heard 
enough  knocking,"  grumbled  Drayne. 

A  dozen  of  the  fellows  crowded  about,  con- 
sternation written  in  their  faces. 

Prescott  was  known  not  to  be  fit  to  play. 
Only  the  day  before  Dr.  Bentley  had  refused 
to  pass  him  for  the  game.  Hence  Drayne,  even 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    225 

if  a  trifle  out  of  condition,  was  still  the  best 
available  man  for  left  end. 

"Quit  your  fooling,  Drayne!"  cried  two  or 
three  at  once. 

"Quit  your  talking,"  retorted  Drayne,  kick- 
ing off  his  other  field  shoe.  "I've  done  all  my 
talking. ' ' 

Truth  to  tell,  Drayne  still  intended  to  play, 
but  he  wanted  to  teach  these  fellows  a  lesson. 
He  intended  to  make  them  beg,  from  Wadleigh 
down,  before  he  would  go  on  to  the  finish  of 
his  togging.  Drayne  knew  when  he  had  the 
advantage  of  them. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Drayne,"  broke  in  Hudson 
hotly. 

"  Or  a  traitor  to  your  school, ' '  added  another. 

"Be  a  man!" 

In  Drayne 's  present  frame  of  mind  all  these 
appeals  served  to  fan  his  inward  fury. 

"Shut  up,  all  of  you!"  he  snapped.  "I've 
listened  to  all  the  roasting  I  intend  to  stand. 
I'm  out  of  the  game!" 

Several  looked  blankly  at  "Hen"  Wadleigh. 

"Whom  have  you  to  put  in  his  place?"  Gray- 
son  demanded  hoarsely. 

Drayne  heard  and  it  was  balm  to  his  soul. 
He  started  to  pull  off  his  football  trousers. 

Outside,  the  band  started  upon  a  lively  galop. 
The  crowd  began  to  cheer.  It  started  in  as  a 

15—  The  High  School  Left  End. 


226    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Gridley  cheer.  Then,  above  everything  else, 
rang  the  Filmore  yell  of  defiance. 

Just  at  this  moment  Coach  Morton  strode  into 
the  room.  Almost  in  a  twinkling  he  learned  of 
the  new  complication  that  had  arisen. 

"Captain  Wadleigh,  who  is  to  play  in 
Drayne's  stead?"  demanded  the  coach  rather 
briskly. 

"Under  certain  conditions,"  broke  in 
Drayne,  "I'll  agree  to  play." 

"We  wouldn't  have  you  under  all  the  con- 
ditions in  the  world!"  retorted  Mr.  Morton.  "A 
football  eleven  must  be  an  organization  of  the 
finest  discipline!" 

Drayne  reddened,  then  went  deathly  white. 
He  hadn't  intended  to  let  the  matter  go  this 
far. 

'  *  Who  is  your  best  man  for  left  end,  captain  I ' ' 
insisted  Mr.  Morton.  "You've  got  to  decide 
like  a  flash.  Your  men  ought  to  be  out  in  the 
air  now." 

There  was  a  blank  pause,  while  "Hen"  Wad- 
leigh looked  around  over  his  subs. 

"Will  you  let  me  play?" 

There  was  a  start.  Every  fellow  in  the  room 
turned  around  to  stare  at  the  speaker. 

It  was  Dick  Prescott,  who  started  eagerly  for- 
ward, his  face  aglow  with  eagerness. 

"You,  Prescott!"  cried  Mr.  Morton.     "But 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    227 

only  yesterday  Dr.  Bentley  reported  that  your 
lungs  had  not  sufficiently  recovered." 

"I  know,  sir,"  Dick  laughed  coolly;  "but 
that  was  yesterday." 

' '  It  would  be  foolhardy,  my  boy.  If  you  went 
out  on  the  field,  and  any  exceptional  strain  came 
up,  you  might  do  an  injury  to  your  lungs. ' ' 

"Mr.  Morton,"  replied  the  team's  left  end, 
very  quietly,  "I'm  willing  to  go  out  on  the 
field — and  do  all  that's  in  me,  for  old  Gridley 
— if  it 's  the  last  act  of  my  life. ' ' 

"Your  hand,  Prescott!"  cried  Mr.  Morton, 
gripping  the  boy's  palm.  "That's  the  right 
spirit  of  grit  and  loyalty.  But  it  wouldn't  be 
right  to  let  you  do  it.  It  isn't  necessary,  or 
human,  to  pay  a  life  for  a  game. ' ' 

"Will  you  let  me  go  on  the  field  if  Dr.  Bent- 
ley  passes  me  to-day?"  queried  Prescott. 

"But  he  won't." 

"Try  him." 

Mr.  Morton  nodded,  and  some  one  ran  out  and 
passed  the  word  for  Dr.  Bentley,  who  acted  as 
medical  director  in  the  School's  athletics. 

Within  two  minutes  the  physician  entered 
dressing  quarters. 

Coach  Morton  stated  Prescott 's  request. 

"Absurd,"  declared  Dr.  Bentley. 

"Will  you  examine  me,  sir?"  insisted  Pres- 
cott. 


228    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

With  a  sigh  the  old  physician  opened  his 
satchel,  taking  out  a  stethoscope  and  some  other 
instruments. 

" Strip  to  the  waist,"  he  ordered  tersely. 

Many  eager  hands  stretched  out  to  aid  Dick 
in  his  task. 

In  a  few  moments  the  young  athlete,  the  up- 
per half  of  his  body  bared,  stood  before  the 
medical  examiner.  For  his  height,  weight  and 
age  Prescott  was  surely  a  fine  picture  of  physi- 
cal strength. 

But  Dr.  Bentley,  with  the  air  and  the  pre- 
formed bias  of  a  professional  sceptic,  went  all 
over  the  boy's  torso,  starting  with  a  prolonged 
examination  of  the  heart  action  and  its  sounds. 

"You  find  the  arterial  pressure  steady  and 
sound,  don't  you!"  asked  Dick  Prescott. 

"Hm!"  muttered  Dr.  Bentley.  "Now,  take 
a  full  breath  and  hold  it." 

Thump!  thump!  thump!  went  the  doctor's 
forefinger  against  the  back  of  his  other  hand,  as 
he  explored  all  the  regions  of  Dick's  chest. 

A  dozen  more  tests  followed. 

"What  do  you  think,  Doctor?"  asked  Mr. 
Morton. 

"Hm!  The  young  man  recovers  with  great 
rapidity.  If  he  goes  into  a  mild  game  he'll 
stand  it  all  right.  If  it  turns  out  to  be  a  rough 
game " 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    229 

"Then  I'll  fare  as  badly  as  the  rest,  won't 
I,  Doctor?"  laughed  Dick.  "Thank  you  for 
passing  me,  sir.  I'll  get  into  my  togs  at  once." 

"But  I  haven't  said  that  I  passed  you." 

Dick,  however,  feigned  not  to  hear  this.  He 
was  rushing  to  his  locker,  from  which  he  began 
to  haul  the  various  parts  of  his  rig. 

"  Is  it  a  crime  to  let  young  Prescott  go  on  the 
field?"  asked  Coach  Morton  anxiously. 

"No,"  replied  Dr.  Bentley  hesitatingly.  "It 
might  be  a  greater  crime  to  keep  him  off  the 
gridiron  to-day.  Men  have  been  known  to  die  of 
grief. ' ' 

Probably  a  football  player  never  had  more 
assistance  in  togging  up  for  a  game.  Those 
who  couldn't  get  in  close  enough  to  help  Dick 
dress  growled  at  the  others  for  keeping  them 
out. 

"You  seem  uneasy,  Coach,"  murmured  Cap- 
tain Wadleigh,  aside. 

"lam." 

"I  can't  believe,  sir,  that  a  careful  man  like 
Dr.  Bentley  would  let  Prescott  go  on  at  left  end 
to-day,  if  there  was  good  reason  why  Prescott 
shouldn't.  As  we  know,  from  the  past,  Dick 
Prescott  has  wonderful  powers  of  recupera- 
tion." 

"If  Prescott  should  go  to  pieces,  Captain, 
whom  will  you  put  forward  in  his  place?" 


230    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 


1 1 


'Dalzell,  sir.  He's  speedy,  even  if  not  as 
clever  as  Prescott  or  Drayne." 

"I'm  glad  you've  been  looking  ahead,  Cap- 
tain. But  I  hope  Prescott  will  hold  out,  and 
suffer  no  injury  whatever  from  this  day's 
work. ' ' 

Was  Dick  anxious?  Not  the  least  in  the 
world.  He  was  care  free — jubilant.  The 
Gridley  spirit  possessed  him.  He  was  going  to 
hold  out,  and  the  eleven  was  going  to  win  its 
game.  That  was  all  there  was  to  it,  or  all  there 
could  be. 

In  the  first  two  or  three  days  after  his  injury 
at  the  fire  Dick  had  traveled  briefly  in  the  dark 
valley  of  physical  despair. 

To  be  crippled  or  ill,  to  be  physically  useless 
— the  thought  filled  him  with  horror. 

Then  young  Prescott  had  taken  a  good  grip 
on  himself.  Out  of  despair  proceeded  determin- 
ation not  to  allow  his  lungs  to  go  down  before 
the  assault  of  smoke  and  furnace-like  air. 

Grace  Dodge  was  not,  as  yet,  well  on  the  way 
to  recovery,  but  Dick  Prescott,  with  his  strong 
will  power,  and  the  grit  that  came  of  Gridley 
athletics,  was  now  togging  hastily  to  play  in  the 
great  game — though  he  had  not,  as  yet,  returned 
to  school  after  his  disaster. 

Out  near  the  grandstand  the  band  crashed 
forth  for  the  tenth  time.  Gridley  High  School 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    231 

bannerets  waved  by  the  hundreds.  Yet  Fil- 
more, too,  had  her  hosts  of  boosters  here  to-day, 
and  their  yells  all  but  drowned  out  the  spirited 
music. 

"Here  come  our  boys!  Gridley!  Gridley! 
Gridley !  Wow-ow-ow ! ' ' 

"Hurrah!" 

Then  the  home  boosters,  who  had  read 
Drayne's  name  on  the  score  card  took  another 
look  at  their  cards — next  rubbed  their  eyes. 

"Prescott  at  left  end!"  yelled  one  frenzied 
booster.  "Whoop!" 

Then  the  Gridley  bannerets  waved  like  a 
surging  sea  of  color.  The  band,  finishing  its 
strain,  started  in  again,  not  waiting  for  breath. 

' '  Prescott,  after  all,  on  left  end ! ' ' 

Home  boosters  were  still  cheering  wildly  by 
the  time  that  Captain  Pike,  of  Filmore  High 
School,  had  won  the  toss  and  the  teams  were 
lining  up. 

Silence  did  not  fall  until  just  the  instant  be- 
fore the  ball  was  put  in  play. 

Drayne,  with  his  headgear  pulled  down  over 
his  eyes,  and  skulking  out  beside  the  grand 
stand,  soon  began  to  feel  a  savage  satisfaction. 

Something  must  be  ailing  the  left  end  man 
after  all,  for  Dick  did  not  seem  able  to  get 
through  the  Filmore  line  with  his  usual  brilliant 
tactics. 


232    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

Instead,  after  ten  minutes  of  furious  play,  Fil- 
more  forced  Gridley  to  make  a  safety.  Then 
again  the  ball  was  forced  down  toward  Grid- 
ley's  goal  line,  and  at  last  pushed  over. 

Gridley  hearts,  over  on  the  grand  stand  and 
bleacher  seats,  were  beating  with  painful  ra- 
pidity. What  ailed  the  home  boys!  Or  were 
the  Filmore  youths,  as  they  themselves  fondly 
imagined,  the  gridiron  stars  of  the  school  world  ? 
Filmore,  like  Gridley,  had  a  record  of  no  defeats 
so  far  this  season. 

It  was  a  hard  pill  for  Captain  Wadleigh  and 
his  men  to  swallow. 

In  the  interval  between  the  halves  the  local 
band  played,  but  the  former  dash  was  now 
noticeably  absent  from  its  music. 

The  Gridley  colors  drooped. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

SULKER    AND   REAL    MAN 

DAVE  DAERIN  glanced  covertly,  though 
anxiously,  at  his  chum. 

Was    Dick    really    unfit    to    play? 
Dave  wondered. 

It  was  not  that  Prescott  had  actually  failed 
in  any  quick  bit  of  individual  or  team  play 
that  he  had  been  signaled  to  perform.  But 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    233 

Damn  wondered  if  Dick  could  really  be  any- 
thing like  up  to  the  mark. 

During  the  interval  Captain  Wadleigh  went 
quietly  among  his  men,  murmuring  a  word  of 
counsel  here  and  there. 

Nothing  in  Wadleigh 's  face  or  tone  betrayed 
worry;  intense  earnestness  alone  was  stamped 
on  his  bearing. 

"Now,  remember,  fellows,  don't  get  a  spirit 
of  defense  grafted  on  you,"  were  Wadleigh 's 
last  words  before  the  second  half  began.  "  Re- 
member, its  to  be  a  general  assault  all  the  time. 
If  you  get  on  the  defensive  nothing  can  save  us 
from  losing." 

No  sooner  was  the  ball  in  motion  than  Grid- 
ley's  line  bore  down  upon  the  enemy.  So  de- 
termined was  the  assault  that  Filmore  found  it- 
self obliged  to  give  ground,-  stubbornly,  for  a 
while.  Yet  Captain  Pike's  men  were  not  made 
of  stuff  that  is  easily  whipped.  After  the  first 
five  minutes  Pike's  men  got  the  ball  and  began 
to  drive  it  a  few  yards,  and  then  a  few  yards 
more,  over  into  Gridley's  territory. 

As  the  minutes  slipped  by  the  ball  went  nearer 
and  nearer  to  Gridley's  goal  line.  Another 
touchdown  must  soon  result. 

Twice  Pike  tried  to  throw  the  ball  around  the 
left  end.  Wadleigh,  Hudson,  Darrin  and  Pres- 
cott,  backed  by  quarter  and  left  half,  presented 


234    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

such  a  stubborn  block  that  the  ball  did  not  get 
another  yard  down  the  field  in  two  plays.  But 
Pike,  who  was  a  hammerer,  made  a  third  at- 
tempt around  that  left  end.  This  time  he 
gained  but  two  feet,  and  the  ball  passed  to  Grid- 
ley. 

Of  course,  after  having  had  its  left  wing  so 
badly  battered  Gridley  was  bound  to  try  to  work 
the  ball  through  Filmore's  right.  As  Wad- 
leigh's  signals  crisped  out,  the  Gridley  players 
threw  themselves  out  for  a  play  to  right. 

Quarter  received  the  ball,  starting  fiercely  to 
the  right.  Left  half  dashed  past  quarter,  re- 
ceiving the  ball  and  carrying  it  straight  to  Dick 
Prescott.  For  a  moment  this  blind  succeeded 
so  admirably,  that  even  those  on  the  grand  stand 
did  not  see  the  ball  given  to  Prescott,  but  be- 
lieved that  quarter  was  rushing  the  ball  over  to 
the  right. 

Then,  like  a  flash,  the  trick  dawned. 

Dick  Prescott  had  the  oval,  and  was  running 
with  it  like  a  whirlwind,  with  Darrin  and  Hud- 
son as  his  interference,  and  with  quarter  dash- 
ing close  behind  them. 

Dick  sprinted  around  the  first  Filmore  man, 
leaving  his  interference  to  sweep  the  fellows 
over. 

At  Filmore's  second  attempt  to  tackle,  Dick 
ducked  low  and  escaped.  In  the  next  instant 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    235 

the  would-be  tackier  was  bowled  over  by  Dar- 
rin  and  Hudson,  and  Dick  swept  on  with  the 
ball. 

By  this  time  all  the  home  boosters  were  on 
their  feet,  yelling  like  so  many  Comanches. 

Filmore's  half  and  full  contrived  a  trap  that 
caught  young  Prescott,  and  carried  him  down 
with  the  ball — but  this  happened  at  Filmore's 
forty-five-yard  line! 

In  the  next  play,  Dave  had  the  ball,  on  a  short 
pass,  but  with  Dick  dashing  along  close  to  his 
side,  and  Hudson  on  the  other  flank.  Before 
Darrin  went  down  on  the  ball  it  had  been  car- 
ried to  Filmore  's  thirty-yard  line.  Then  it  went 
beyond  the  twenty-five-yard  line,  and  Gridley 
still  carried  the  pigskin. 

"Dick's  coming  up,  all  right,"  proudly  mut- 
tered Darrin  to  Hudson,  while  the  next  snap- 
back  was  forming. 

"It's  putting  nerve  into  all  of  us,"  rejoined 
Hudson. 

The  pigskin  was  only  fourteen  yards  from 
the  Filmore  goal  line  when  Captain  Wadleigh's 
men  had  to  see  the  ball  go  to  Filmore.  Pike's 
men,  however,  failed  to  make  good  on  downs, 
so  the  oval  came  back  into  Wadleigh's  posses- 
sion. 

Now,  the  play  was  swift  and  brilliant.  Dick 
got  the  ball  around  the  left  end  once,  and  after- 


236    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

wards  assisted  Dave  to  put  it  through  the  hostile 
line.  With  the  third  play  Dick  carried  the  pig- 
skin barely  across  Filmore's  goal  line  and  scored 
a  touchdown.  Darrin  immediately  after  made  a 
kick  for  goal. 

The  score  now  stood  eight  to  six  for  Filmore— 
but  only  ten  minutes  of  playing  time  remained. 

"Our  fellows  have  saved  a  whitewash,  and 
that's  all,"  reflected  Drayne.  "They'd  have 
done  better  with  me,  and  I  guess  Wadleigh 
knows  it  by  this  time." 

"Slug's  the  word,"  Pike  passed  around, 
swiftly.  * '  No  fouling,  but  use  your  weight,  dash 
and  speed.  Slam  these  Gridley  rubes.  Ham- 
mer 'em!" 

'  *  Come  on,  now,  Gridley ! ' y  rang  the  imploring 
request  from  the  home  boosters,  who  were  now 
too  restless  to  keep  to  their  seats. 

"Remember  your  record  so  far  this  season!" 

"Forceful  playing,  but  keep  cool.  Use  your 
judgment  to  the  last,  and  put  a  lot  of  speed  and 
doggedness  behind  your  science,"  was  Wad- 
leigh's  adjuration. 

Those  who  followed  form  most  closely  now 
had  their  eyes  on  young  Prescott. 

If  he  went  to  pieces  that  would  leave  Grid- 
ley  weak  at  what  had  usually  been  its  strongest 
point,  especially  in  attack. 

And  Gridley  had  the  ball  again.    But  what 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    237 

ailed  Captain  Wadleigh,  the  boosters  wondered? 
For  he  was  now  sending  the  ball  to  the  right 
wing,  as  if  admitting  that  Prescott  must  not  be 
worked  too  hard. 

"Use  Prescott!"  shouted  one  man  hoarsely. 

"Prescott!    Prescott!" 

* '  Yah  I  Dot  'a  all  right.  Vot  you  t  'ink  Wad- 
leigh has  ein  head  for!  Leafe  him  und  Bres- 
gott  alone,  and  dey  hand  you  der  game  a  min- 
ute in!"  bawled  the  deep  bass  voice  of  Herr 
Schimmelpodt  who,  nearly  alone  of  the  Grid- 
ley  boosters,  believed  that  the  home  team  needed 
no  grand  stand  coaching. 

"But  they've  only  eight  minutes  left,"  grum- 
bled the  man  sitting  to  the  left  of  Herr 
Schimmelpodt. 

"Yah!  Dot's  all  right,  too,"  retorted  the 
German.  "Battles  haf  been  won  in  less  than 
eight  minutes.  Read  history!" 

In  two  plays  Captain  Wadleigh  had  succeeded 
in  advancing  the  pigskin  less  than  two  yards 
down  the  Filmore  territory. 

But  now  hats  were  thrown  up  in  the  air,  and 
frantic  yells  resounded  when  it  was  discovered 
that  Dick  had  the  ball  again,  and  that  Darrin, 
Hudson,  Wadleigh,  quarter  and  left  half  were 
fighting  valiantly  to  push  him  through  the  stub- 
born, panting  line  of  Filmore  High  School. 

It  was  a  splendid  fight,  but  a  losing  one.    Fil- 


238    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

more  was  massing  all  its  weight,  wind  and 
brawn,  and  Gridley  lost  the  ball  on  downs. 

An  involuntary  groan  went  up  from  the  Grid- 
ley  spectators. 

Five  and  a  half  minutes  left,  and  the  ball  in 
the  enemy's  hands!  That  settled  the  game. 

The  musicians  looked  at  their  leader,  before 
taking  the  music  from  their  instrument  racks. 

"Keep  your  music  on,"  called  the  leader. 
"We  of  Gridley  are  sportsmen  enough  to  play 
the  victors  off  the  field. " 

The  play  was  quicker  and  snappier  than  ever. 
All  the  young  men  on  both  sides  were  using  their 
last  reserves  of  strength  and  wind.  Pike  was 
making  a  ferocious  effort  to  get  the  ball  back 
and  over  Gridley 's  goal  line. 

But  Pike  lost,  after  three  plays,  and  Wad- 
leigh's  men  again  grabbed  the  pigskin. 

"Barely  two  minutes !"  groaned  the  Gridley 
spectators,  watches  in  hand. 

Dick  was  seen  glancing  at  Wadleigh  and  shak- 
ing his  head  almost  imperceptibly.  But  a  hun- 
dred people  on  the  grand  stand  saw  that  tiny 
shake,  and,  most  of  all,  Pike  took  it  in. 

Wadleigh,  before  bending  low  over  the  ball 
held  up  thumb  and  forefinger  of  his  right  hand, 
formed  in  a  circle,  for  a  brief  instant.  That 
sign  meant : 

"Emergency  signal  code!" 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    239 

Then  he  bent  over  to  snap  the  ball  back,  and 
the  figures  that  shot  from  quarter-back's  chest 
carried  different  values  from  those  that  any 
enemy  could  guess. 

' '  Eight — eleven — four — ten !  * 9 

Then  the  ball  went  back  to  quarter,  who 
started  from  a  crouch  without  straightening  up. 

Gridley's  whole  attack  seemed  to  swing  to 
the  right.  Wadleigh,  himself,  from  half -facing 
to  right,  took  a  long  step  toward  right  wing; 
then  wheeled  like  a  flash,  and  went  plowing,  on- 
ward, to  the  left. 

Quarter,  after  the  start,  and  ere  Filmore  could 
break  through,  had  passed  the  ball  to  half,  who, 
on  a  wild  sprint,  had  passed  it  to  Dick  Prescott. 

And  now  Dick  was  racing  out  around  Fil- 
more 's  right  end,  backed  by  a  crushing  inter- 
ference of  which  Wadleigh  was  the  center. 
Hudson,  with  head  low,  was  charging  like  a  goat. 
Darrin,  with  head  high,  was  watching  for 
every  chance  at  legitimate  interference.  Behind 
them  all,  quarter  and  left  half  pounded  and 
pushed. 

An  instant  and  Dick  was  free  and  around  Fil- 
more's  end.  Now,  he  dashed  into  the  race  of 
his  life! 

Wadleigh  sent  a  man  sprawling.  Dave's  el- 
bow did  something  to  Filmore 's  right  tackle. 
Just  what  it  was  none  of  the  spectators  could 


240    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

see.     But  none  of  the  field  officials  interfered, 
so  it  must  have  been  legitimate. 

After  a  fight  and  a  short,  brilliant  run,  Dick 
was  tackled  by  Filmore's  fullback. 

One  quivering  instant — then  Wadleigh  and 
Hudson  bumped  that  fullback  so  hard  that  he 
went  down,  Dick  wriggling  safely  away  and 
bounding  toward  Filmore's  goal. 

With  fire  in  their  eyes,  Gridley's  center  and 
left  wing  swept  on. 

Dick  Prescott  was  over  the  goal  line,  bending 
and  holding  the  ball  down!  Then,  indeed,  the 
crowd  broke  loose — all  except  the  few  hundreds 
from  Filmore. 

Was  it  a  touchdown?  That  was  the  question 
that  all  asked  themselves.  It  was  so  close  to  the 
line  that  many  onlookers  were  in  doubt,  and 
stood  staring  with  all  their  eyes. 

But  the  ball  went  back  for  the  kick,  and  that 
settled  all  doubts. 

Dave  made  the  kick,  and  lost  it — but  who 
cared  f 

A  moment  later  and  the  whistle  blew — the 
second  half  was  over — the  game  finished. 

Filmore  had  bitten  the  dust  to  the  song  of 
eleven  to  eight. 

Dick's  tiny  head  shake  had  been  a  piece  of 
strategy  prearranged  with  Wadleigh.  It  was 
a  legitimate  ruse,  as  honest  as  any  other  piece 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    241 

of  football  strategy  intended  to  throw  the 
enemy  "off." 

Now  the  band  was  indeed  thundering  out, 
playing  in  its  best  strain. 

All  restraint  thrown  aside,  the  spectators 
surged  over  the  lines  and  out  on  the  gridiron, 
making  a  rush  for  the  heated  but  happy  home 
players. 

The  record  had  been  kept — a  season  without 
a  game  lost.  Filmore  swallowed  its  chagrin 
and  went  home. 

Dick  ?  He  had  helped  nobly  to  save  the  game 
and  the  record,  but  now  he  was  exhausted. 

Over  in  dressing  quarters  two  of  the  subs 
were  rubbing  him  down,  while  Dr.  Bentley  and 
Coach  Morton  stood  anxiously  by. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

CONCLUSION 

AFTER  a  few  days  Prescott  was  back  at 
school.    It  was  noted,  however,  that  he 
did  not  take  any  part  in  gym.  work,  and 
that  he  spoke  even  more  quietly  than  usual, 
but  he  kept  up  in  his  recitations. 

Youth  is  the  period  of  quick  recovery.  That 
the  Thanksgiving  Day  game  had  strained  the 
young  left  end  there  was  no  doubt.  Within  a 

1 6—  The  fft£h  School  Left  End. 


-242  THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

fortnight,  however,  Prescott  was  himself  again, 
taking  his  gym.  work,  and  a  cross-country  run 
three  times  a  week. 

"We  ought  to  give  Drayne  the  school  cut," 
hinted  Grayson.  "He  behaved  in  an  abom- 
inable way  right  at  the  beginning  of  the  critical 
game.  He's  a  traitor." 

"Give  Drayne  the  cut?"  repeated  Wadleigh, 
slowly,  before  a  group  of  the  fellows.  "Per- 
haps, in  one  way,  he  deserved  it,  but " 

"Well,  what  can  you  find  to  say  for  a  fel- 
low who  acted  like  that?"  demanded  Hudson, 
impatiently. 

"Drayne  helped  to  win  the  game  for  us,"  re- 
plied Wadleigh  moderately.  "Had  he  played 
Filmore  would  have  downed  us — of  that  I'm 
sure,  as  I  look  back.  Drayne 's  conduct  put 
Prescott  on  the  gridiron,  didn't  it?  That  was 
what  saved  the  score  for  us." 

At  the  time  of  Grace  Dodge's  great  peril, 
her  banker  father  had  been  away  on  a  business 
trip.  It  was  two  days  later  when  word  was 
finally  gotten  to  the  startled  parent.  Then,  by 
wire,  Theodore  Dodge  learned  that  Grace 's  con- 
dition was  all  right,  needing  only  care  and  time. 
So  he  did  not  hasten  back  on  that  account. 

When  he  did  return  to  Gridley,  Mr.  Dodge 
hunted  up  Lawyer  Ripley. 

"I    must    reward    those    boys,    and    hand- 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    243 

somely,"  lie  explained  to  the  lawyer.  "  Their 
splendid  conduct  demands  it." 

"I  am  sorry,  Dodge,  that  you  have  been  so 
long  in  coming  to  such  a  conclusion,"  replied 
the  lawyer,  almost  coldly. 

1  'What  do  you  mean?" 

''Why,  you  still  owe  Prescott  and  Darrin  that 
thousand  dollars  offered  by  your  family  as  a 
reward  for  finding  you  when  your  misfortune 
happened. ' ' 

"But  my  son,  Bert " 

"Is  the  bitter  enemy  of  young  Prescott,  who 
is  one  of  the  manliest  young  fellows  ever  reared 
in  Gridley." 

"But  my  wife  has  also  opposed  my  paying 
the  reward, ' '  argued  Mr.  Dodge.  * '  She  declares 
that  the  two  boys  were  out  on  a  jaunt  and  just 
stumbled  upon  me." 

"Your  wife,  like  all  good  mothers,  is  much 
inclined  to  take  the  part  of  her  own  son,"  re- 
joined Lawyer  Ripley.  "However,  at  the  time 
Prescott  and  Darrin  found  you,  they  were  not 
out  on  a  jaunt.  They  were  serving  '  The  Blade, ' 
and  I  happen  to  know  that  the  young  men  did 
some  remarkably  good  detective  work  in  trail- 
ing and  rescuing  you.  They  started  fair  and 
even  with  the  police,  but  they  beat  the  police 
at  the  latter 's  own  game.  Dodge,  by  every  con- 
sideration of  right  and  justice,  you  owe  that 


244    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

reward  to  Prescott  and  Darrin!  If  they  had 
not  found  and  rescued  you,  you  might  not  be 
here  to-day.  There  is  no  telling  what  might 
have  happened  to  you  had  you  been  left  help- 
less in  the  custody  of  the  pair  of  scoundrels  who 
had  you  in  that  shack.  I  repeat  that  you  owe 
that  thousand  dollars  as  fairly  as  you  ever 
owed  a  penny  in  your  life!" 

"Well,  then,  I'll  pay  it,"  assented  Theodore 
Dodge  reluctantly,  after  some  hesitation.  "I 
am  afraid  my  wife  will  oppose  it,  however." 

"You  can  tell  Mrs.  Dodge  just  what  IVe  said, 
or  I'll  tell  her,  if  you  prefer." 

"Will  you  attend,  Eipley,  to  rewarding  all 
the  boys  for  their  gallant  conduct  in  rescuing 
my  daughter?" 

"Yes;  if  you'll  leave  the  matter  wholly  in  my 
hands,  and  agree  not  to  interfere." 

Theodore  Dodge  agreed  to  this,  and  Lawyer 
Eipley  went  ahead.  The  legal  gentleman,  how- 
ever, had  a  more  difficult  time  than  he  had  ex- 
pected. It  took  a  lot  of  argument,  and  more 
than  one  meeting,  to  make  Dick  &  Co.  agree  to 
accept  anything  whatever. 

It  was  at  last  settled,  however,  Mr.  Ripley 
urging  upon  the  young  men  that  they  had  no 
right  to  slight  their  own  future  prospects  or 
education  by  refusing  to  "lay  by"  money  to 
which  they  were  honestly  entitled,  when  it  came 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    245 

in  the  form  of  an  earned  reward  from  a  citizen, 
amply  able  to  pay  the  reward. 

So  Dick  and  Dave  received  that  thousand 
dollars,  which,  of  course,  they  divided  evenly. 

In  addition,  each  member  of  Dick  &  Co.  re- 
ceived one  hundred  dollars  for  his  prompt  and 
gallant  work  in  rescuing  Grace  Dodge  from 
death. 

Of  course  Bert,  away  at  private  school  with 
Bayliss,  heard  all  about  the  rescue.  It  is  not 
a  matter  of  record,  however,  that  Bert  ever 
wrote  a  letter  thanking  any  member  of  Dick 
&  Co.  for  saving  his  sister. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

POSTSCRIPT 

WHEN   the   next   commencement   swung 
around  Fred  Ripley,  who  had  man- 
aged to  "go  straight"  all  through  his 
senior  year,  was  among  those  graduated.    What 
became  of  him  will  yet  be  learned  by  our  readers 
in  another  volume. 

There  are  a  host  of  other  Gridley  fellows  also 
to  be  accounted  for. 

Their  part  in  the  subsequent  history  of  Grid- 
ley,  and  of  the  world  in  general,  will  also  yet 
be  told,  all  in  the  proper  place. 


246    THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END 

"Prin.,"  too,  may  yet  come  in  for  some  at- 
tention. 

Dick  &  Co.  did  not  take  part  in  basket  ball 
nor  any  of  the  organized  winter  athletics, 
though  they  kept  constantly  in  training.  But 
these  young  men  realized  that  the  High  School 
is,  first  of  all,  a  place  for  academic  training; 
so,  after  the  football  season  had  ended  so 
gloriously,  they  went  back  to  their  books  with 
renewed  vigor. 

Laura  and  Belle,  as  they  neared  the  end  of 
their  junior  year,  went  almost  from  girlhood 
into  womanhood,  as  is  the  way  with  girls. 

Yet  neither  Miss  Meade  nor  Miss  Bentley 
found  Dick  or  Dave  "too  young"  for  their 
frank,  girlish  admiration. 

"You  see,  Dick,  that  we  were  quite  right 
about  you  and  Dave  having  all  the  grit  that 
goes  with  the  highest  needs  of  the  military 
profession,"  Laura  remarked.  "Your  conduct 
at  the  fire  shows  the  stuff  that  would  be  dis- 
played by  Dick  &  Co.  in  leading  a  charge  in 
battle,  if  need  be." 

"I  guess  a  reasonable  amount  of  courage,  un- 
der stress,  is  the  possession  of  nearly  all  mem- 
bers of  the  human  race,"  laughed  young  Pres- 
cott. 

Here  we  shall  leave  our  Gridley  friends  for 
a  short  time.  We  shall  meet  them  all  again, 


THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END    247 

however,  in  the  forthcoming  and  final  volume 
of  this  series,  which  will  be  published  under 
the  title: 

"THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  TEAM  ;  Or, 
Dick  &  Co.  Leading  the  Athletic  Vanguard." 

In  this  new  volume  we  shall  see  more  of  the 
boys'  qualities  in  leadership. 


THE  END 


The  Pony  Rider  Boys  Series 

By  Frank  Gee  Patchin 

THE  PONY  RIDER  BOYS  IN  THE  ROCKIES;  Or,  The 
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THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  LEFT  END;    Or,  Dick  &  Co.  Grilling 

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THE  HIGH  SCHOOL  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  TEAM;    Or,  Dick 

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HENRY    ALTEMUS     COMPANY 
PHILADELPHIA 


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THE  MOTOR  BOAT  CLUB  OF  THE  KENNEBEC;    Or,  The 

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THE    MOTOR   BOAT   CLUB   AT   NANTUCKET;     Or,   The 

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Daring  Marine  Game  at  Racing  Speed. 
THE   MOTOR   BOAT   CLUB   AND    THE   WIRELESS;     Or, 

The  Dot,  Dash  and  Dare  Cruise. 
THE  MOTOR  BOAT  CLUB  IN  FLORIDA;    Or,  Laying  the 

Ghost  of  Alligator  S\vamp. 
THE    MOTOR    BOAT    CLUB    AT    THE    GOLDEN    GATE; 

Or,  A  Thrilling  Capture  in  the  Great  Fog. 

Cloth,  12mo.     Illustrated.     Price,  $1.00  each. 


The  Submarine  Boys  Series 

By  Victor  G.  Durham 

THE  SUBMARINE  BOYS  ON  DUTY;    Or,  Life  on  a  Diving 

Torpedo  Boat. 
THE    SUBMARINE    BOYS'    TRIAL    TRIP;     Or,    "Making 

Good"  as  Young  Experts. 
THE  SUBMARINE  BOYS  AND  THE  MIDDIES;    Or,  The 

Prize  Detail  at  Annapolis. 
THE  SUBMARINE  BOYS  AND  THE  SPIES;    Or,  Dodging 

the  Sharks  of  the  Deep. 
THE  SUBMARINE  BOYS'  LIGHTNING  CRUISE;    Or,  The 

Young  Kings  of  the  Deep. 
THE  SUBMARINE  BOYS  FOR  THE  FLAG;    Or,  Deeding 

Their  Lives  to  Uncle  Sam. 

Cloth,  12mo.    Illustrated.    Price,  $1.00  each. 


At  all  booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  by  the  publishers. 

HENRY     ALTEMUS     COMPANY 
PHI       LADELPHIA 


The  Automobile  Girls  Series 

THE  AUTOMOBILE  GIELS  AT  NEWPORT;    Or,  Watching 
the  Summer  Parade. 

THE  AUTOMOBILE  GIRLS  IN  THE  BERKSHIRES;    Or, 
The  Ghost  of  Lost  Man's  Trail. 

THE  AUTOMOBILE  GIRLS  ALONG  THE  HUDSON;    Or, 
Fighting  Fire  in  Sleepy  Hollow. 

(OTHERS  IN  PREPARATION) 
Cloth.     Illustrated.     Price,  $1.00  each. 


The  Circus  Boys  Series 

By  Edgar  B.  P.  Darlington 

THE  CIRCUS  BOYS  ON  THE  FLYING  RINGS;    Or,  Mak- 
ing a  Start  in  the  Sawdust  Life. 

Cloth.     Illustrated.     Price,  $1.00. 


The  High  School  Girls  Series 

By  Jessie  Graham  Flower,  A.M. 

GRACE  HARLOWE'S  PLEBE  YEAR  AT  HIGH  SCHOOL; 
Or,  The  Merry  Doings  of  the  Oakdale  Freshmen  Girls. 

Cloth.     Illustrated.     Price,  $1.00. 


At  all  booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  by  the  publishers. 

HENRY    ALTEMUS     COMPANY 
PHILADELPHIA 


Altemus* 

Little  Men  and  Women  Series 

A  new  series  for  young  people,  by  the  best  known 
English  and  American  authors. 

BLACK  BEAUTY.    By  Anna  Sewell. 

HIAWATHA.     By  Henry  W.  Longfellow. 

ALICE  IN  WONDERLAND  AND  THROUGH  THE  LOOK- 
ING GLASS.  By  Lewis  Carroll. 

PAUL  AND  VIRGINIA.     By  Sainte  Pierre. 

GALOPOFF,  THE  TALKING  PONY.    By  Tudor  Jenks. 

GYPSY,  THE  TALKING  DOG.     By  Tudor  Jenks. 

CAPS  AND  CAPERS.     By  Gabrielle  E.  Jackson. 

DOUGHNUTS  AND  DIPLOMAS.     By  Gabrielle  E.  Jackson. 

FOR  PREY  AND  SPOILS.     By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

TOMMY  FOSTER'S  ADVENTURES.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE.  By  Charles  and  Mary 
Lamb. 

FOLLY  IN  FAIRYLAND.     By  Carolyn  Wells. 

FOLLY  IN  THE  FOREST.     By  Carolyn  Wells. 

POLLY  PERKINS'  ADVENTURES.     By  E.  Louise  Liddell. 

HELEN'S  BABIES.     By  John  Habberton. 

A  LITTLE  ROUGH  RIDER.     By  Tudor  Jenks. 

ANOTHER  YEAR  WITH  DENISE  AND  NED  TOODLES, 
By  Gabrielle  E.  Jackson. 

POOR  BOYS'  CHANCES.     By  John  Habberton. 

SEA  KINGS  AND  NAVAL  HEROES.     By  Hartwell  James. 

THE  BOY  GEOLOGIST.     By  Professor  E.  J.  Houston. 

Cloth,  12mo.     Illustrated.     Price,  $1.00  each. 
At  all  booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  by  the  publishers. 

HENRY     ALTEMUS     COMPANY 
PHI       LADELPHIA 


UCSB   LIBRARY 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

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